


The Boy with the Moon Rune Tattoo

by nonameforhire



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mutual Pining, RAYLA SAYS FUCK CAN I GET A HELL YEAH, Rayllum, Slow Burn, i guess it could be considered lore-building, i try to update often, magic fights, plot twists muhaha, rated T just in case, rayla? a badass, sweeping the leg, sword fighting wig, there's magic I swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 117,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonameforhire/pseuds/nonameforhire
Summary: Life was normal at Xadia Academy. Life was safe. At least, that was what Rayla thought, until she met the mute Skywing elf Callum, a new student with strange mannerisms―who turns out to be far more than she ever anticipated. There are mysteries at the college (and beyond), ones that she’d never even dreamed of. Blood ties are challenged and broken, rules are shattered, and even preconceptions that are public knowledge are cast aside. There is a storm brewing in Xadia Academy, one that revolves around both Callum and Rayla...whether they like it or not.





	1. An Unusual Morning

Rayla’s morning was falling into pieces, and this time it wasn’t _entirely_ her fault.

Most of the time, the college’s massive clock tower’s chimes would wake her (along with every student in a one mile radius) but…well, she’d had a paper to work on last night, and it had taken until the wee hours of the morning. She must have slept past the clock tower’s chimes, because when she finally did awaken―the dreaded sun’s beams stabbing into her eyes rather rudely―her roommate was gone, the dorm smelled like burnt jelly tarts, and a splitting headache alerted her to what must have happened.

She was up in half a moment, kicking off her boring gray covers and shrugging on some clothes all within the same time span. She’d learn to become very efficient in the past months, all on her own. Barely a minute after she’d woken up, she was dressed and gulping down a lukewarm cup of coffee that Luna had left behind with a grimace.

A curse rang through the room as Rayla looked back at her bed and realized that her paper―so carefully written with her quill the night before―was lying on the floor underneath her bunk. Quickly and carefully, she gathered the parchment into her arms and, with infinite caution, tucked it into her folder, which she stuffed into her backpack.

She barely paused in the mirror at the end of the room to quickly adjust her bedhead (seriously, who else had hair that would stick _straight up?_ ) and wipe a sleep crusty from her eye. She dashed out into the hallway right as the halfway bell rang in the clock tower.

She breathed out another curse as she adroitly slid down the bannister at the edge of the staircase, her hair mussed up once more as air rushed around her. The halfway bell meant that it was 8:30; classes started at 8:35. Her first class (Illusionistic Perfection) was all the way on the other side of campus. On a good day (i.e. a day where she actually woke up on time), Rayla could make it to her class right at the halfway bell, taking only ten minutes to get ready before she started her walk. Now she’d have to sprint.

Well, Runaan always did say exercise was good for her, didn’t he?

Rayla resisted the urge to groan as she shoved her way past the glass doors of Blossom Hall. She would need all of her breath to at least _attempt_ to make this mad dash.

And so she ran―doing her best to ignore the strange looks that the other elves gave her as she ran the way Runaan had taught her. Any other day, she would have stopped to admire the sunberry bushes in bloom, or the starfruit that hung on the trees at the precipice of autumn, but everything was sort of a blur as she sprinted past her surroundings.

She reached the Crescent Center (horribly named, by the way) in record time, her chest heaving as she forced herself up the stone steps and threw herself inside the building, being careful not to let her backpack get caught in the wooden doors that slammed behind her. Glancing up at the clock in the hallway, Rayla uttered her millionth curse of the morning as she ran through the building. _8:43_.

There! Room 113, Professor Lujanne. Rayla nearly slid right past the door as she brought her legs to a halt, wincing as she heard the slight squeak of her boots against the polished mahogany floor. She hesitated for just a moment, taking a deep breath to steady her pounding heart, before she swallowed her apprehension and opened the door.

The classroom, as always, was in complete chaos. There were about thirty other students in the class, all of them Moonshadow Elves, and Moonshadow Elves _hated_ staying still for any amount of time. Besides, it didn’t help that Professor Lujanne was usually late to her _own_ class, either. Five rows of rectangular desks that fit six sat in the room on a steady incline, with the highest seats in the farthest reaches of the room. There were a few small windows spread evenly about the room, but the blinds were all closed, casting the room in a strange semi-darkness interrupted by only by the intermittent white spheres of light that floated aimlessly about the room.

Rayla did her best to ignore the pointed looks that several students gave her as the clock struck 8:45. She adjusted the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and made it about two steps into the classroom before Professor Lujanne herself magically appeared.

Lujanne was a tall Moonshadow elf, with dark (almost blue) horns jutting from her head, fully grown. She had darker skin than usual for a Moonshadow elf, and no face markings. She had long, white hair gathered into two braids that hung in front of her, stark against the dark blue and green colors of her moon mage robes. She was Xadia Academy’s most talented illusionist teacher, and a favorite of the Moonshadow Elves (who, for obvious reasons, usually majored in Illusion).

“Ah, Rayla,” the professor said. “How nice of you to join us after all.”

Rayla winced. She felt the back of her neck heat up as the whole class stared at her. “I was…uh…practicing my moon magic?”

Judging from the look on Professor Lujanne’s face, she didn’t buy the excuse for one second. Rayla sighed and dug a small bottle of moonberry juice out of one of the outside pockets of her backpack. That was Lujanne’s price for every late student; one bottle of moonberry juice. It was fortunate that Rayla had gotten into the habit of carrying a bottle with her everywhere―it was her favorite drink, after all.

Lujanne accepted the vial with a nod toward the back of the room, where the only empty seat was. Rayla sighed again and trudged to the back of the room, hating the stares from her classmates. She was not raised to be in the spotlight.

“Now that we’re all here, I would be pleased to start the lesson,” Lujanne said pleasantly, gesturing to the chalkboard at the front of the class, which was already covered in notes and writings.

Rayla hurried to her new seat as the other students began scribbling on their pieces of parchment. The back of the classroom was dark, and she barely avoided the bags of the other students back there, as she finally found her seat that was one chair away from the wall.

She barely noticed the other students around her, not recognizing most of them. She usually sat near the front of the classroom so that she could take notes better, which meant that she was typically unaware of the others who sat in the back of the class. As she scrambled to take out a pad of parchment and her quill and inkpot, she slowly became aware of the boy she had sat next to.

He was squeezed tightly against the wall, as if he were trying to disappear into it. Because of the shadows of the room, it was hard to make out his features, but that also could have been because Rayla was struggling to get her inkpot out of the bottom of her bag. The most she could tell before she refocused her attention on the matter at hand was that he had messy brown hair and was wearing a red scarf around his neck.

Rayla turned back to her bag and stuck nearly her entire arm inside as she searched before the realization hit her: she’d forgotten her inkpot at her dorm room. Ironic, really, considering that she’d kept an extra quill and pad of parchment inside for just this occasion. As the notes of the other students filled up around her, Rayla cursed herself for her poorly decided sleep schedule. Maybe the morning really was her fault after all.

She sighed, turning to the boy at her left once more. He had an inkpot next to him, though he didn’t seem to be using it, choosing instead to use a charcoal pencil. His notes were meticulous, his handwriting neat.

“Hey,” Rayla whispered, nodding over at him. His face was still shadowed by the corner of the room. “Can I borrow your…ink…thingy?” 

She was typically much more well spoken. But as she’d been whispering to him, one of the glowing spheres of the room drifted near, and she caught sight of his features―his _Skywing_ features.

Indeed, he seemed to be a Skywing elf, though a highly unusual one. His messy brown hair nearly covered his pointy ears and his horns (which were a strange, golden color), and the intense green of his eyes contrasted with the horizontal, sky-blue face marks across his cheekbones. He seemed to be about her age―18, one of the younger freshmen―though he had a strange sort of naivety to him that she couldn’t quite place. He was wearing a blue jacket over a red and gold tunic, and was wearing a single strap across his chest that was attached to a journal (some sort of sketchbook, perhaps?) that rested at his hip. He had to have the smallest wings that she had ever seen on a Skywing elf, with only a small bulge in the fabric at his back to even show that he had them. Even so, it was painfully obvious that he was connected to the Sky Arcanum; one of the first lessons an elf learned was that an elf’s connection to one of the primal sources was the most clear thing about them. Even though Rayla hadn’t really met very many Skywing Elves, she knew that they usually radiated some sort of artistic and free energy. This elf had plenty of it.

The boy looked at her for a moment, as if not believing that she was actually talking to him. After a moment, he nodded.

Rayla thanked him and dipped her quill in the ink pot. As she began to scribble down her copy of the notes on the board, completely disregarding the need for neat handwriting, she wondered what a Skywing elf was doing in an illusion class. Typically, a class’s enrollment was filled with the type of elves who were connected with that particular arcanum. She decided, still scrawling words across her page furiously, that the boy next to her must have been one of the rare “Theoretical Magic” majors. There weren’t many students who majored in that, for it required classes in all six primal magics and the workload was apparently huge. She probably hadn’t noticed him before, because he seemed to enjoy sitting in the back of the classroom, and she sat in the front.

Once Rayla managed to get caught up on her notes, the rest of the class went by slowly. Too slowly, for someone who had just woken up only thirty minutes before and hadn’t even had breakfast. Despite the adrenaline that had flowed through her mere minutes before, she found it difficult to pay attention. It didn’t help that Lujanne was farther away than usual, which meant her voice was much harder to hear. It also required extra effort to discern the words on the board. More than once, she found herself glancing at the notes of the boy beside her, whose writing was much clearer and easier to read.

In doing so, she found that his drawings of the runes that Lujanne had written on the board were incredibly detailed and of a higher quality than hers could ever be. She forced herself to focus when she caught herself staring at the way he drew a rune with infinite care. She hadn’t really met anyone who could draw before. Most of the people she knew were more… _athletic_ , for lack of a better word.

As Lujanne traced the symbol for the spell of _mystica arbora_ in the air, the room was deathly silent―which, of course, meant it was the perfect time for Rayla’s stomach to growl like a banther.

She sunk down in her seat, feeling heat rush to her face as several people turned around to stare at her. It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t had time to eat anything! Well, it was, but that didn’t mean they had to stare! Even Professor Lujanne looked unimpressed with her.

Rayla scowled to herself. It was only a month into the first semester, and already things were off to a great start. Runaan was definitely going to rub that in her face.

She felt her face continue to burn as she buried herself in her notes even further. She couldn’t wait until class ended. At least Lujanne wasn’t one of those teachers who made the students interact with each other―she preferred to lecture and let her students’ attention spans speak for themselves.

A few minutes later, with her face returned to normal, she felt something nudge her left arm. She finished her sentence and then glanced over at the Skywing elf next to her, only to find that he was nudging two jelly tarts toward her, a sympathetic look in his green eyes. Surprised, Rayla looked down at the two, _incredibly delicious_ jelly tarts, then back at him, not sure if she was interpreting it right, for he had yet to say a word to her. He nodded at her, as if to say, _“Go ahead, take them_.”

“Thank you,” Rayla whispered, shooting him a grateful smile before she returned to her notes, soothing her rumbling stomach as she snacked on the jelly tarts. If anything, she was even more intrigued by this strange elf. He didn’t even know her―he hadn’t even said a word to her!―yet he was willing to give her food that must have been part of his own breakfast. Compassion was one of the attributes that Rayla respected in other elves. Life before Xadia Academy hadn’t exactly been kind to her.

A few more minutes passed uneventfully. Rayla did her best to focus on the lesson, but it was hard; even harder than usual. She respected Professor Lujanne as a person, but her teaching style was a bit…lacking. Rayla would probably have to go to the library later in the semester in order to actually understand the material; she’d accepted that much in the first lesson.

She was leaning her head on her hand as she watched Lujanne further explain the workings of the glamour spell when something interesting actually happened. Hesitantly and slowly, so slowly that Rayla couldn’t be sure if she was seeing things or not, the boy next to her raised his hand, a curious expression on his face.

It took Lujanne a moment to notice―they were in the back of the classroom, after all―but she seemed pleasantly surprised that someone in her class was taking initiative.

“Yes, Callum?” she asked, projecting her voice a bit more than usual.

Rayla turned to look at the boy, eager to hear what he had to say, but that was where the real surprise came from. Surprisingly, Callum lowered his hands as a sphere of light floated closer and made a series of gestures that were large and exaggerated, so Lujanne could see them.

Rayla felt her mouth drop open. This boy knew sign language?

Of course he did! He probably couldn’t speak! Ugh, she was such an idiot. Luckily, she knew enough to understand what he was saying. Runaan had taught her when she was just a child in the art of sign language, with the explanation that one day she might need to communicate with someone without being heard.

_“Could the spell be modified to disguise the spellcaster as something other than plants while still using the same symbol?”_ Callum was asking.

It was a good question, one that Rayla hadn’t thought of but immediately realized she needed an answer to. She was almost too shocked by the development of his missing voice to hear what the professor said next.

“An excellent question,” Lujanne said, smiling up at him. Then, to the rest of the class who couldn’t understand, she explained. “Callum just asked if it is possible to use the same symbol while changing what it is that the spell is disguising. To answer, Callum, the most important part of this spell is the pronunciation of the word _mystica_ and the etching of the symbol itself. In theory, a talented moon mage could replace the end of the spell with any draconic word that would suffice.”

Even Rayla thought that was interesting, and she wasted no time writing it down. While she wasn’t very talented with tracing any sort of symbol, she did enjoy learning about illusions. She was, after all, a Moonshadow elf.

Callum’s question even served to stretch out the last portion of class, and as the halfway bell rang (9:30 at _last_ ), Rayla felt a flash of relief. Her next class wasn’t until after lunch―she might even be able to take a nap!

It was a much simpler affair, packing up her things this time around. She gave Callum his ink pot back with another word of thanks and did her best to avoid Lujanne’s eye as she made her way out of the classroom. But her curiosity would not let her forget the strange events of the morning.

**< |>**

Callum was a bit of a nervous wreck.

He didn’t think it was any _one_ thing. While Xadia Academy certainly was beautiful (and it gave him plenty of things to draw later), it was also a labyrinth of customs and cultural practices that he knew nothing about. Fortunately, no one had questioned him about it—he couldn’t speak, after all, and he knew of no one other than Lujanne who could understand sign language—so he hadn’t been forced to come up with any sort of explanation. Yet.

He had just enough time to visit his dorm room on the third floor of Blossom Hall before it was time for lunch, and he was forced out into the strange world once again.

This would probably be the most stressful part of his day for as long as he remained at the college. After receiving a bunch of make up work from his professors (communicating with them via a few scrawled messages in his sketchbook), he was dreading the lunch time rush. For one, he knew absolutely no one at the school and wasn’t sure if he wanted to—he knew even less about elves than he knew about swordplay. For another, he wasn’t even sure he know how the whole lunch situation worked. How was he supposed to communicate what he wished to eat if there was a tray in his hands? That was even assuming that the servers understood sign language in the first place. It wasn’t like he’d had time to actually research this college!

It was fortunate that the dining hall (the name of which he couldn’t remember for the life of him) was so close to Blossom Hall, so he could just snatch some lunch and retreat back to his room. The tricky part would be navigating; Callum would have been hopelessly lost if not for the campus map that he had swiped from the Admissions Office. He barely looked up as he made the trek to the dining hall, and as a consequence nearly slammed right into the glass doors, much to the amusement of a nearby group of Earthblood elves. Sheepishly, Callum pocketed the map and slinked inside the building.

The inside of the dining hall was, of course, beautiful. Everything at the academy was. Several picnic tables of dark red wood were placed in the center of the room, underneath a dome with a glass ceiling, which let the sunlight illuminate the hall. Plants circled the place, green roots spread intermittently throughout the chamber. Golden spheres of light flitted about randomly, only serving to increase the magical aura of the room. At the edges of the space, counters overflowing with food that looked amazing sat, where lines of elves formed.

For a moment, Callum just stared at it all, slack-jawed. Then he realized that he was supposed to have seen all this before and snapped his mouth shut.

He really had no idea what any of the food was or how it tasted, so he picked the shortest line and hoped for the best. Perhaps he’d even be able to find some of those jelly tarts that he had seen them making in the morning…he’d snatched a few (in full view of the chefs, honest!) for later, but that girl who’d sat next to him that morning seemed so embarrassed and hungry that he couldn’t help but give them to her.

Callum resisted the urge to hide his face in his scarf as he caught several other elves giving him odd looks. On one level (the logical side of him), he understood that he was the new kid in school, and most of the friendship circles had been established by the first month, making him the outsider. On another, more anxiety-ridden level, he kept worrying that every glance pierced his disguise like a spear, and at any moment the elves would swarm over him as they realized what he was, and then―

―and then someone bumped into him, jarring his mind out of the spiral of terror he had induced in himself. It was a good thing that his voice wasn’t working, otherwise he probably would have let out some sort of embarrassing squeak. As it was, he was just lucky that he didn’t end up flat on his face, because the person who’d slammed into him was _huge._

Callum swallowed as he looked up at the offender, a six-foot tall Sunfire elf with caramel-colored skin and fierce golden eyes that flashed menacingly at him. The elf had been carrying a tray, but the sandwich on the plate had squished into his chest as he’d walked right into Callum.

_Great,_ he thought. _An angry giant. Wouldn’t this be a great time to have my voice?_ Probably not. He’d say something stupid.

“Watch where you’re going, pip-squeak,” the Sunfire elf boomed in a deep voice.

Oh, yes, it was definitely a good thing that Callum’s vocal chords were not working. He let out a wheezing sound that was barely audible even to his own ears as the Sunfire took a threatening step forward, glaring daggers at him.

_“I’m sorry―”_ Callum tried to sign, but that only seemed to make the elf even more irate as he took a step forward. Callum scrambled backward, nearly tripping over his own two feet. How was his luck _this_ bad?

“What sort of gesture was that?” the Sunfire elf demanded, taking another step forward. “What did you just call me?”

Callum’s mouth began opening and closing of its own volition as his mind began flicking through several defensive spells he could try. _Aspiro_ would be most effective in this situation, but that sort of required a voice.

Luckily, his help came in a different form.

A figure stepped in front of Callum, holding a lunch tray in one hand and a small bottle of moonberry juice in the other. She looked none too pleased, her pointed ears twitching upward, toward her dark brown horns, in her irritated state. She was wearing a green track jacket with the words _“Xadia’s Heart”_ stitched on the back in silver letters, along with a symbol of crossed swords. Her shoulder-length white hair and the position at which she was standing obscured her face, but her voice soon clarified her identity.

“Now, now, Talvo. You wouldn’t want to mess up your nice sandwich decoration, now would you?” the girl from the morning class―Rayla?―said, placing the hand holding the bottle of moonberry juice on her hip casually.

Talvo scowled. “This is none of your business, Rayla. I just want to teach the pip-squeak here―” Callum winced at the label. “―a lesson in manners.”

Callum couldn’t see Rayla’s face, but he could see the sudden tenseness of her shoulders.

“Sounds like you’re the one who’s needin’ a lesson in manners, Talvo,” she said, her voice slipping into a much thicker accent than normal in her aggravation.

Callum looked between Talvo and Rayla, ready to run if needed. He was smaller than Talvo (by quite a lot, actually), which meant that he could probably make it to the doors of the dining hall before the Sunfire elf could even realize that Callum was gone.

But it wasn’t needed. After a tense moment, Talvo averted his golden eyes and muttered some sort of elvish curse.

“Fine,” he said, louder. “I have to go work on an essay anyway.” His eyes snapped to Callum, making him flinch. “You’d better watch your back, pip-squeak.”

Callum breathed out a massive sigh of relief as the gigantic Sunfire elf stalked off. The eyes of the other elves in the room suddenly found other things to focus on, now that the entertainment was over.

“Phew,” Rayla said, turning back to face Callum, a grin on her face. “Glad that’s over. For a moment, I thought he was actually going to try something. Are you all right?”

For the first time, Callum got a clear look at her face. She was pale, like him, though in her case it was probably due more to the fact that she was a Moonshadow elf than any lack of sunshine. She had a single, small braid over her right ear, tied with a small moon pendant. Her eyes were large and violet-hued, which Callum found both interesting and slightly intimidating―he’d never met anyone with purple eyes before. The matching purple markings under her eyes didn’t help matters much, either. But the grin she was sending him seemed to be genuine, which was good.

_“I’m fine. Thank you,”_ Callum signed, before he realized that she probably wouldn’t be able to understand anything that he was attempting to say.

But then she surprised him again when she nodded and said, “Good. You’re welcome.”

Callum’s jaw dropped. How could she―

_“You understand sign language?”_ he asked after a moment. One of the only benefits of not having a voice was having time to actually think about what he said before he attempted to speak. Otherwise, he was sure he would have said something embarrassing.

Rayla simply shrugged in response, as if she hadn’t dropped the most pleasant bombshell ever on him. He hadn’t realized how desperate he’d been for someone other than Lujanne and Ezran to understand him until that moment.

“My…dad taught me,” she said after a moment’s thought. “He said it might be useful someday.”

Callum must have still been staring incredulously at her, because she shrugged again after a moment.

“Do you have somewhere to sit?” she asked. “There’s a place at my table, if you want it.”

He paused. It was a tempting offer, but he’d really been planning to just sneak back to his dorm room to be alone―and _safe_ ―for once. Still, the chance to have someone actually understand him after weeks of painful silence…

_“Thank you,”_ Callum told her, giving in. _“But why are you being so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”_ He signed the last part rather fast in his embarrassment, and for a split second he was worried that she hadn’t caught all of what he’d said.

But she seemed to be thinking about her answer, which came to light a moment later. “I don’t like bullies,” she said in a serious voice, her violet eyes flicking over to the glass doors that Talvo had just left the building through. Her tone lightened as she added, “Besides, I owe you for those jelly tarts this morning.”

_Oh,_ Callum thought. _“So I can buy my protection with jelly tarts?”_

She laughed at that, which made him feel a lot better. He knew next to nothing about elves, so it was good to know that they had a sense of humor―and compassion. Everyone back home probably would have said otherwise.

“You don’t have to _buy_ it,” Rayla said, leading him away from the line and toward a table toward the outer reaches of the room. “Although, more jelly tarts never hurt anyone.”

_Ezran would get along well with this girl_ , Callum thought with a wry grin, completely forgetting his need for a meal in that moment.

The table she led him to already had several people sitting at it, all of them Moonshadow elves, though they all looked fairly different from one another. One elf, a boy with short brown hair and long horns of the same hue, was busy attempting to arm wrestle a girl with circular, dark blue marks on her face―who looked absolutely bored with the competition. Beside her, another girl with long, flaxen hair read a textbook while she shoveled some sort of berries into her mouth. Across from her, a boy with curly white hair prepared to toss a moonberry at her face.

“Hey!” the boy with the short brown hair said as Rayla and Callum approached. “Rayla, you’re late today.”

Rayla shrugged and set her tray down next to the girl who was still reading her book. “Sorry, Atlas. I had to rescue this one from Talvo.” She nodded at Callum, and he had to resist the urge to shrink under the gazes of the elves at the table. He gave them a feeble wave.

The other girl arm wrestling Atlas slammed his hand onto the table, a confident smirk on her face. She leaned back on the bench she sat on, sending Callum a friendly look.

“I’m Cressida,” she said, stretching out a four-fingered hand for him to shake. He hesitated for just a moment before he shook it―her handshake was firm and honest. His fath―his step-father had always told him that one could tell a person’s character from their handshake. “What’s your name?”

Callum hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should attempt to spell his name out in sign language, doubting that she would understand. Luckily, Rayla quickly came to the rescue.

“This is Callum,” she said. Then, she frowned, looking over at him. “That was your name, right? Callum? Clem? Or was it Camel?”

Callum winced and signed, _“No, it was the first one.”_

“Right,” Rayla replied, a small smile on her face. She turned back to the other elves at the table, pointing at each of them in turn. “That’s Atlas, Cressida, Zell, and Kale.”

Zell―the girl with the textbook―looked up at her name, right as Kale tossed that moonberry at her. It bounced off of her cheek, leaving a small red stain underneath her her vertical orange face marks. She looked affronted for half a moment before she realized that someone new was at the table.

“Who’s this?” she asked, her brow wrinkling. “When did he get here?”

Callum let out a noiseless chuckle at her cluelessness, even as Rayla explained, “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s a bit…focused.”

“Focused on learning!” Zell interjected. She looked over Callum’s appearance for a moment before adding, “I haven’t seen that many Skywing elves around here.”

He felt his face redden. He wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that, so he didn’t, choosing instead to sit down at the table, next to Rayla, who sat next to Zell.

“Where are you from, Callum?” Kale asked, tossing a moonberry into his mouth.

Callum froze. He hadn’t expected someone to just _ask_ him that. Then again, he’d assumed that someone would only ask him where he was from if they were suspicious of him―he’d completely forgotten about the art of small talk.

_“I’m from the border…”_ he signed, hoping that would clear things up without going into too much detail. Then, realizing that they might ask what town, he spelled out the first name that came to mind; a small city that he and his mother had stopped in when he was a child. _“Lumina.”_

As Rayla translated for the others, Callum thought it odd that none of these elves were questioning the fact that he couldn’t speak―at least, not out loud. In fact, they didn’t even seem bothered by it, watching him while he signed and listening to Rayla with the same attention. It was…nice, actually. It had been a while since someone had listened to him so closely, even if they couldn’t fully understand him. Not even Bait was that attentive anymore, and Ezran had the attention span of a typical thirteen-year-old boy.

“Lumina!” Atlas exclaimed with a grin. “I hear they have excellent jelly tarts there.”

_What is with these people and jelly tarts?_ Callum thought, though he was grinning. If nothing else, it made the university feel a bit more like home. Elves, apparently, had the same tastes as humans.

“Speaking of which,” Cressida said, tossing two jelly tarts toward Callum.

Callum’s hands flailed as he attempted to catch the flying pastries, but had never really been particularly graceful. The first jelly tart hit him square in the chest, smushing jam into the front of his shirt. The second smacked him right in the jaw, sending jelly flying and splattering both him and Rayla.

“Hey!” Rayla exclaimed, wiping red jam out of her hair with a finger.

Cressida winced as the girl’s hard stare turned to her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was just trying―”

_“It’s fine,”_ Callum signed. _“It was my fault. I’m sort of clumsy.”_

Rayla snorted as she watched his hands. She handed him a napkin and gestured to his face. He sighed and wiped the jelly off of his cheek, feeling like a bit of an idiot. What a great first impression to make: now people would think that he was dumb as well as mute, which didn’t correlate at all. Callum had been a bit of an idiot long before his voice had disappeared. At least, that’s what Ezran had said.

“I was just trying to be nice,” Cressida gushed, guilt written all over her face. “You forgot to grab food, so I―”

_“Really, it’s fine,”_ Callum insisted. _“And you don’t have to do anything of the sort for me. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own lunch.”_

“Not right now, you’re not,” Rayla told him after she had translated for the others. She jerked her head toward the counters, which were now empty of all food. Clearly, whoever supplied the food wasn’t eager to stand there the whole time. “Talvo slowed you down too much.” Her purple eyes softened when she saw the crestfallen look on his face. “But you can have a bit of my lunch.”

“Mine too, if you don’t feel like salvaging those jelly tarts,” Cressida added.

Callum looked down at the half-destroyed pastries. There was still plenty of jelly inside both, if the stickiness of the table where they had landed was any indication.

_“This is nothing,”_ Callum told the elves around him. _“My brother would eat a jelly tart even if it had been dropped in a raccoon den. Come to think of it, I think he has.”_

“Do they have raccoons down in Lumina?” Kale asked, once Rayla verbalized what Callum had signed. “I thought that was more of a creature from the west.”

Callum signed quickly, realizing his mistake. _“Yes. It’s really close to the border.”_ He hoped that was enough to cover his slip-up, feeling his pulse judder in his veins as Rayla translated. Thankfully, none of the other Moonshadow elves seem to question anything. For now.

The rest of lunch was much less eventful. With Rayla interpreting for him, it was actually sort of fun to speak to the elves. It was easy to pick out their personalities, for the most part: Kale (a sophomore) was the goofy one, Zell (a junior) the scholar, Atlas (another sophomore) the athlete, and Cressida (a senior) the mother of the whole group―though the occasional wry comment from her seemed to hint at some sort of fun side. The only one Callum had a hard time figuring out was Rayla, partly because the amount of questions directed at him meant that she was so busy interpreting what he had said that she barely had time to add her own interjections and comments. Beyond that, she didn’t seem quite as open as the others; something that Callum related to, even if he didn’t entirely understand it.

The other elves were even nice enough to donate a small portion of each of their lunches to him, until he had a mixture of different foods that one could consider a meal. The food was quite good, and he had to be careful not to let his surprise at the textures and flavors show on his face, lest they start to suspect that he wasn’t the same as they were.

“You mentioned something about a brother before?” Atlas asked, after about twenty minutes of idle chatter.

Callum picked his next words very carefully, making sure to acknowledge what he had said before without giving too much away. _“Yes. He has a huge jelly tart addiction. He would love it here―everyone else does too.”_

Zell looked up from her textbook―something about the power of full moons and its associated cousins―with a chuckle. “Yes, well…the humans did get one thing right. I understand that the jelly tart was their invention, and it was imported into Xadia after the alliance a hundred years ago.”

Callum remained cautiously still, but the subject of humans passed like the wind. Apparently, elves much preferred jelly tarts to the other race of the continent. The same could be said for humans.

“Yeah,” Kale said, stuffing the last of his moonberries into his mouth. “The chefs here have to start making the jelly tarts after dinner to satisfy the demand for the next day. They have to finish them quickly in the morning.”

Rayla rolled her eyes. “And you would know, would you?”

Cressida shook her head disapprovingly. “Kale here has tried to steal from the cooks on seven different occasions. Seven! I swear, he never learns his lesson…”

“That’s just part of my charm!” Kale protested. “Besides, it was _eight_ attempts _._ I figured it out last time. There’s a trapdoor in the roof that leads to the kitchen. Not even the cooks know about it! Most of the buildings here have something like it, it’s just a matter of finding them.”

_That’s a lot of effort for some simple pastries,_ Callum thought with a grin even as Cressida’s mouth dropped open and she incredulously exclaimed, “How do you _know_ that?”

As Callum leaned back in his seat, his only thought was how different everything seemed to be from what he was used to. If he were to survive here, he would have to be smart about it.

Oh, if only it were that easy.

**< |>**

Later that night, as she came back from a lecture on moon magic and illusions that had run long, Rayla thought she saw a shadow on the roof of Blossom Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was the first chapter! If you made it this far, I congratulate you, because I have no confidence and didn't expect anyone to reach this point. I hope I peaked your interest? If there was anything I could have done better (I can think of a few, but I'll keep those to myself), please let me know. And positive feedback―any feedback, actually―would be incredibly helpful, and I would really appreciate it. And I'm still learning how this site works (I'm trash and used to lesser sites), so if you notice any format mistakes, please also let me know.
> 
> and keep reading? :)


	2. The Jelly Tart Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ezran hadn't been this happy in ages."

Callum made sure that no one was in the hallway before he unlocked the door to his dorm room and quickly shut it behind him. Almost immediately, a pillow slammed into the back of his head.

He sighed and turned around to face the aggressor, only to find that there was no one in the room―at least, no one visible. However, the telltale bright glow that suddenly shone from under one of the two bunkbeds of the room told a different tale.

Callum made sure the door was locked tightly behind him before he grinned deviously and snatched a pillow from off the nearest bed―his―and creeped up to the edge of one of the dressers, which aligned with the beds perfectly.

If he had a voice, he would have shouted “Gotcha!” as he dove under the bed, just like he’d always done. As it was, he’d grown too tall for those kinds of antics, and bumped his head on the wooden frame of the bed painfully before he even made it under the bed. A pillow to the face only served to make his defeat sink in.

Bait glowed pink as Ezran giggled, holding a large red pillow in his arms. Not for the first time, Callum marveled at how much he had grown in just the past few months alone. As children, they’d both been short, but even Callum had towered over him. Now, Callum was about average height, and Ezran was catching up fast. His curly black hair was still a mess―which seemed to be some sort of family trait―and his blue eyes shone brightly in the dim lighting of the room. He was wearing a red tunic and black breeches, along with a pin of Katolis University's mascot, a large banther that was pinned to the left side of his shirt.

But Callum knew his brother well enough to know that something was wrong, even though Ezran was grinning. There was a weight now to his posture that hadn’t been there just two months ago. Grief was slowing him down. Callum knew because it was doing the exact same thing to him.

 _“How was your day?”_ Callum signed. Bait increased his glow just slightly to make the movement of his hands more visible. Callum shot him a grateful look.

“Booooring,” Ezran replied, leaning back against the wall with an exasperated look on his face. “Callum, can’t I do _anything_ here? If I wear a cloak―”

 _“Ez, you know this is for your own good,”_ Callum interrupted. _“And mine. It’s a lot easier for me out there if I know you’re safe in here.”_ As safe as he could be, at least. If the elves discovered the human boy in Callum’s dorm room, there would be hell to pay. The war may have ended a hundred years ago, but that didn’t mean that the hostilities between humans and elves had gone away.

Fortunately, most of that aggression seemed to be channeled through the two most prestigious colleges on the continent: Xadia Academy and Katolis University. Unfortunately for Callum and Ezran, they were in the wrong place. Not that it was their fault.

Callum forced himself away from those thoughts before he could go down the rabbit hole. Instead, he forced a smile for Ezran and scratched Bait’s chin.

“I know,” Ezran eventually said. “But you have no idea how _boring_ it is in here, Callum. We’ve been here for a week, and Bait and I have already been through all the books that we brought!” Bait turned black in confirmation.

Callum winced at that. Ezran was only thirteen, and while he may have been tall for his age, no one would have believed that he was a college student, even from a distance. The kid had a sort of childish energy to him, even after everything that had happened. Besides, even if they were to pass him off as a college student, there was still the process of passing him off as an elf…

He shuddered at the thought.

 _“Well,”_ he signed, partly to distract himself, but mostly to make his little brother feel better, _“I would lend you some of my textbooks, but I think you’d find those even more boring.”_

It was true. Callum loved learning about magic, but even he found some of the elves’ textbooks a bit dry. Seriously, he would have thought that a society defined by magic would have no need for textbooks. His shoulders were still aching from having to drag all of his books across campus.

Ezran giggled a bit at that, but the laugh was diminished. He really was having a hard time with all of this. So was Callum, if he was being honest, though he certainly had it easier than the thirteen-year-old.

 _“Have you been talking to the birds?”_ he asked, more as a joke than anything. It had been two years since Ezran had opened up about his ability to understand animals, but Callum still had a hard time believing it, even if Ezran had proven it by having a bunch of mice steal Callum’s underwear.

Ezran shook his head dejectedly. “No. What if one of the elves can do what I can do? Then the birds would tell them, and we―” He cut himself off.

Callum sighed, running a four-fingered hand down his face. He still wasn’t used to that. How did elves operate without a fifth finger?

Ezran was taking this even harder than Callum thought he would, and he’d already thought that the boy would take it incredibly hard. It wasn’t like they had any choice, though! It was either this, or…whatever― _who_ ever―was waiting for them back in Katolis.

It was hard on both of them. Callum would have preferred to be the one hiding in the room, away from the prying eyes of the elves, but he wouldn’t force that kind of responsibility on Ezran. Besides, it all served a greater purpose. Hopefully.

He sighed again, forcing himself to crawl further under the bed so that he was right next to Ezran. He opened his arms for a hug, and his little brother responded in kind, wrapping him in an embrace so tight that Callum could feel his ribs popping.

“That’s so weird!” Ezran exclaimed, still squeezing tightly. Even though Callum couldn’t feel where Ezran’s hands were, he somehow knew that they were near the fake wings at his back. “I can actually feel them!”

 _“They’re not real, Ez,”_ Callum reminded him as the boy pulled back, looking a little cheerier. _“The whole point of this was that it was supposed to be believable, remember?”_

“I know,” Ezran said, leaning back against the wall. He was almost too tall to fit underneath the bed sitting up now, which meant that Callum was _definitely_ too tall to do it, but he tried anyway.

 _“You know what I miss?”_ Callum signed, eventually giving up and settling for a hunched over position that barely allowed him to move his hands. When he saw that he had Ezran’s attention, he continued. _“Those chocolate crust jelly tarts that Dad would sometimes sneak us from his office.”_ His hands hesitated before the word _Dad,_ but he signed it anyway. After everything that had happened, it just felt right.

Ezran’s face lit up. After eighteen years, Callum knew exactly how to cheer his younger brother up.

“And those ones with the strawberry icing?” Ezran added.

They both sighed wistfully, then chuckled together. Callum tousled Ezran’s hair affectionately, making the boy grin and scramble away as Bait croaked and turned pink once more. A second later, a pillow smacked Callum in the face.

 _“I surrender!”_ Callum signed, laughing in his voiceless way as Ezran continued to beat him with the red pillow. _“I surrender!”_

Ezran giggled again and put the pillow down, following Callum as he crawled out from under the bed, spitting feathers out of his mouth and rubbing his sore neck. He sat on the edge of his bed with one more soundless chuckles, grabbing his backpack and rifling through it for one of the jelly tarts that he had snagged during lunch. After a week (and with the help of Rayla and Cressida), he’d mastered the art of finding food in the cafeteria. He’d even managed to smuggle one out of the dining hall, an impressive feat due to Atlas’s massive appetite. If Callum didn’t finish his food quickly enough, Atlas would ask for it and scarf it all down within seconds. He was a lot like Soren, in that way.

Callum felt a pang in his heart at the thought of one of his old friends and focused instead on handing the jelly tart to his younger brother, who took it with the same enthusiasm as he always had. At least that hadn’t changed.

He had homework to do then, and did his best to try and chat with Ezran as he did some of it. It was easy, actually; the class he had it in was based in sky magic, which, of course, was his best (and favorite) subject. It was a bit difficult to talk to Ezran one-handed, however, and eventually they gave up as he did some of his work. It left Callum with a sort of hollow feeling in his chest, the same feeling that had been there for weeks. Loneliness and grief―the only true companions he’d had these past few weeks.

It was dark outside by the time Callum finished, setting down the small paragraph that he had written for the professor whose name he had forgotten. His wrist was cramping from all the writing, but as an artist that was something that he had grown used to long ago.

Ezran was busy rereading one of the books that Callum had snatched on their way out of Katolis, something called _The Lost Secrets of Xadia._ Really, Callum should be the one reading that. He was the one sticking his neck out in a foreign land he knew nothing about. He made a mental note to read it later as he pondered the slumped shoulders of his brother, and the color of Bait, which was slowly but surely fading back to gray.

An idea sparked in Callum’s mind, and he tossed his pillow at Ezran to get his attention. The boy started, but by the time he looked up at Callum, he was already signing something rapid-fire.

 _“I have an idea for something fun we could do,”_ he signed, feeling nervous butterflies in his stomach at the very thought of it. _“But if we do it, you have to do exactly what I tell you, no questions, all right?”_

Ezran’s eyes lit up, and Callum immediately knew that the boy was in even before he said, “Oh! What is it?”

Callum hesitated. Then, with a hesitant grin, he signed, _“We are going to pull off the greatest jelly tart heist Xadia has ever seen.”_

**< |>**

For what had to be the millionth time in the last hour, Callum tugged the hood around Ezran’s head down over his face. This was a stupid idea! They were sure to get caught.

He continued to argue with himself even as he and Ezran journeyed across campus― _out the in open!_ ―in the direction of the dining hall. They both wore their backpacks, and both wore their cloaks in the hopes that it would hide their faces. It was the first time that they had been together out in the open for several weeks. The smuggled journey into Xadia had not been fun.

 _This is crazy, this is stupid, they’re just jelly tarts,_ Callum’s anxiety sang to him. He did his best to ignore it, but he couldn’t deny that the claims had some sort of merit to them. It had only been a week, and already Callum had made a decision that could risk everything they had accomplished and were working toward now! Sometimes his stupidity amazed even him.

But try as he might, he couldn’t call it off. Ezran was smiling― _really_ smiling―for the first time since the incident that had set all of this in motion. He kept looking around at everything on the campus in absolute wonder and fascination, even laughing excitedly as some sort of glowing rat creature raced across his foot. Callum couldn’t take this away from him, even if it was something as stupid as jelly tarts. Ezran hadn’t been this happy in ages. Besides, Callum had a feeling that if he had tried to tell his little brother to stay at the dorm, Ezran would try to sneak out anyway. At least this way, Callum knew where he was.

When they were children, they used to pull off what they called “jelly tart heists” all the time, whenever they had visited the campus of Katolis University, which was quite often. The cooks in the kitchens had even started setting up obstacle courses to try and slow the duo down, but it had never been enough. Callum and Ezran had always been able to sneak past them and to the delicious pastries that they guarded. Those were some of Callum’s fondest memories.

But even all of those heists couldn’t prepare them for the danger of this one. If they were caught, the chefs would not rat them out to their father. Instead, they would discover Ezran, a human, and all hell would break loose…

Callum twisted the end of his pointed ear to get himself to stop worrying. He felt a twinge of pain, but only through the part of the appendage that was actually real.

“Is that it?” Ezran whispered, pointing over to the large domed building that Callum had grown somewhat used to over the past week.

 _“Keep your voice down!”_ Callum signed back at him, before turning back to the dining hall. _“Someone told me that there’s a trapdoor on the roof that we can use.”_

“But Callum,” Ezran protested in a much softer voice, “how are we supposed to get up there?”

Callum lifted up his right index finger, which glowed with an inner green light. _“I’ll figure something out.”_

He didn’t add that he didn’t have his voice―which was sort of necessary for any sort of spell that he could perform. He’d improvise, if he had to. Ezran needed this―and Callum needed it too.

They approached the dining hall carefully, trying their best to not look too suspicious. Callum’s black cloak was pulled low over his face as habit, despite the fact that he looked just as much an elf as anyone else at the university―save for the little stubs of “wings” at his back. If he were actually a Skywing elf, he’d be a pretty sorry one.

He shook the thought from his mind as they reached the edge of the building. Callum wondered how exactly Atlas had managed to get onto the roof―after all, there were no visible ladders, and the ceiling itself was made out of _glass._ Not exactly the best for a stealthy heist.

He could see a warm glow from inside the building in the darkness of the night, indicating that the cooks were doing exactly what Kale had said they would and were making jelly tarts for the next morning. Callum’s stomach rumbled at the thought; he had skipped dinner for this.

 _Callum, you’ve lost your mind,_ he told himself as his eyes skirted the edge of the building, searching for some way up.

“There!” Ezran said quietly, pointing to one section of the room that seemed to be more decrepit than the others. The dining hall only had a glass ceiling for part of the building; the rest was normal shingles. Granted, the shingles were golden-hued and seemed to be magical―what in Xadia _wasn’t?_ ―but they were shingles nonetheless. It was nice to see that at least _something_ resembled normal in this strange place.

 _“Do you think you could reach that if I give you a boost?”_ Callum asked his brother. Ezran nodded solemnly, though he still wore a grin on his face.

It was a good thing they had decided not to bring Bait with them, because the little toad tended to flash brightly whenever he got nervous―like Callum was feeling right now. Although, the light that Bait could have provided would have been appreciated as he and Ezran huddled in the shadow of the building.

The following experience was not pleasant. As Callum did his best to lift Ezran up (when had he gotten so _heavy?_ ), he desperately wished for his voice back. That way, he could simply use _Aspiro_ to blow Ezran up to the top of the building, instead of having Ezran _step on every part of his face._

After about two minutes of this, where Callum received a nice, boot-shaped red mark on his cheek, Ezran managed to scramble up to the top portion of the building. Callum sighed in relief, slumping over in exhaustion. This was _not_ worth it. But they were in too deep to stop now.

“There’s a ladder up here!” Ezran’s voice came a moment later, a bit too loud for Callum’s liking. The boy’s face appeared at the roof, smiling widely. Callum signed for Ezran to be careful, but the boy barely listened, lowering a small wooden ladder with a few loud scrapes and grunts.

Callum looked around in alarm, sure that someone would have heard that, but no one appeared from out of the gloom to demand what they were doing. Even the wind was silent. Sighing, he turned back to the ladder and began to climb.

Fortunately, he’d never had a fear of heights, so the ascent was easy―even if the ladder creaked and groaned a bit. After a minute, he reached the roof, pulled himself up, and tugged the ladder up after him.

 _We have to be the biggest idiots in Katolis,_ Callum thought. He adjusted the empty backpack around his shoulders and turned to Ezran, whose grin was so wide that it threatened to crack open his face open.

 _“I’d better get the best Big Brother Day present for this,”_ Callum told him.

Ezran made a face. “That’s not a thing, Callum.”

_“It is now.”_

Now it was Ezran’s turn to sigh (he was a teenager now, after all). Together, they began to search the roof for something resembling a trapdoor.

It wasn’t easy. The moon had gone behind the clouds before Callum and Ezran had even exited the dorm, which meant that it was nearly pitch black on top of the roof. The only light they had was from the glow inside the dome, and they couldn’t risk getting too close to that, lest they risk discovery, or worse: tripping and falling into it. Callum would never forgive himself if Ezran got killed because of his misguided attempt to cheer the boy up. Beyond that, the roof was slightly slanted, because of the shingles, and they had to be careful not to slide right off the roof. How had Atlas _found_ this? How had he not fallen to his death? Granted, the drop wasn’t very far, but if one fell the right way, it could easily result in a serious injury.

Callum discovered it by complete accident, nearly tripping right over it and falling off the roof. Luckily, he caught himself in time, heart pounding out of his chest as he stumbled to the ground. Carefully, he felt around the ground, feeling the rough wood of a trap door below him.

He grinned, straightening and trying to catch Ezran’s attention. It wasn’t easy, because Callum still didn’t have his voice, but eventually he managed, nearly falling off the roof a second time as he waved his arms around to catch the boy’s eye.

Ezran crouched down next to Callum after crossing the roof, staring down at the trapdoor. As always before one of their infamous jelly tart heists, there was a flood of excitement and nervousness in equal measures. But then Callum slowly pulled open the trapdoor, and the heist began.

Callum dropped down first, barely able to squeeze into the small door and down onto the floor of the dining hall. His ankles throbbed with the impact, but other than that the pain wasn’t too bad. It was certainly a lot better than falling face-first off the roof, that was for certain.

He stood on his tippy toes, trying his best to catch Ezran’s legs as he slowly lowered them. Callum grunted as he took his brother’s weight―he had never claimed to be athletic in the slightest―but somehow he managed to get Ezran from the roof to the floor of the chamber without injuring either of them or alerting the cooks to their presence.

Seriously, shouldn’t there be some sort of campus security, or something? Maybe the Xadian authorities simply assumed the best of their students. Somehow he doubted it; it was far more likely that jelly tarts were not considered a high priority.

The inside of the dining hall was much more intimidating at night. There was no sunlight to illuminate the room, and whatever the magical orbs were that illuminated the place were long gone. The whole space was cast in darkness, and it was only with a great amount of will and effort that Callum and Ezran did not crash into anything as they crept through the room, toward the warm orange glow of torchlight in the kitchen.

“…outrageous demand!” they heard a voice with an elvish accent exclaim as they grew closer. “What did the humans _put_ in these things when they invented them? Everybody seems to want them.”

“They probably put dark magic in it,” another elf joked. “To make it addictive.”

Callum and Ezran both tensed at the mention of dark magic, but Callum put a hand on Ezran’s shoulder to steady both of them. They were just there for jelly tarts; nothing too serious. Unless they were caught. Then it was definitely serious.

 _“I’ll distract them,”_ Callum signed, handing Ezran his backpack quietly. Fortunately, the light from the kitchen provided enough light for Ezran to see the movement of his hands. _“You grab as many jelly tarts as you can and meet me outside.”_

Ezran shot him a grin that made Callum feel much better. This had been a good (if _incredibly_ risky) decision; the smile on Ezran’s face proved as much. Now the trick was making sure that things didn’t get too complicated.

Callum straightened from his crouched position, adjusted his blue jacket, and began to run as loud as he could, making sure to crash into as many picnic tables as he could on the way.

_Thud thud BAM!_

As an added bonus, one of his flailing arms slapped into a metal tray that someone had left behind. With a grin, Callum snatched it off the ground and began smacking it on anything he could find.

“Hey!” he heard one of the elves shout. He looked back to find that both Sunfire elves were standing in the doorway of the kitchen, glaring daggers at him with their golden eyes.

Callum responded by banging the tray against the wall loudly and blowing a raspberry in their direction. Then he started to run, and the elves followed him.

**< |>**

Ezran couldn’t help but giggle as he snuck into the abandoned kitchen, hearing the elves chase after Callum like that. It was just like when they were younger. They would usually take turns distracting the chefs as the other stole as many jelly tarts as they could carry, with the distractions growing more and more elaborate in order to lure the cooks away.

These elves had no idea what they were getting into. The thought made his grin even wider as he snuck to the pans of jelly tarts―which smelled _delicious_ ―and began carefully stuffing the pastries inside his bag. It filled up quickly, and the smell of the jam made his mouth water. He surreptitiously munched on a few jelly tarts as he slung his bag over his shoulder and began stuffing Callum’s.

If only Dad could see them now! He always had been proud of how well they could work together, and endlessly amused at the complaints of the kitchen chefs.

Ezran’s hand hesitated for just a moment as he realized that his father would never see them pulling another stunt like this again, but forced himself to continue. Dad wouldn’t have wanted them to dwell on things that were out of their control. What was it he had always said? Something about escaping the chains of the past?

“Hey, kid!” a sudden voice exclaimed, sounding none too happy.

Ezran froze, right in the middle of lifting a jelly tart to his mouth.

Well, this complicated things.

**< |>**

Callum panted heavily as he dashed through the limited halls of the building, sweat dripping down his face. Behind him, he could hear the two Sunfire elves giving chase, shouting a bunch of incomprehensible elvish curses at him.

Despite the stress of the situation, Callum found himself grinning. He hadn’t had fun like this in quite a while, even if the dangers outweighed the payoff. He hoped that Ezran was having as much fun as he was, if not more―the kid was probably stuffing himself with pastries at that very moment.

Callum passed the golden tapestry of a sunset in the hallway for the third time, making sure to slap the metal tray (dented heavily at this point) against the wall as he did. Really, the dining hall was one big circle, they should have figured out by now―

_WHAM!_

Something slammed into Callum’s midsection, knocking the air right out of him and sending him crashing to the floor.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ he cursed himself as one of the Sunfire elves tackled him to the ground. Callum did his best to scramble away, accidentally striking the elf in the throat as he did. He gasped for air, and Callum used the moment to crawl away, stumbling to his feet and dashing off.

Dangerous? Yes. Fun? Not so much anymore.

 _All right, Ez, the distraction is over,_ Callum thought as he ran even faster than before. He looked behind him, only to find that there was only one Sunfire elf chasing him.

His gut lurched. There’d only been one elf chasing him this whole time? What about the other elf?

What about Ezran?

**< |>**

Ezran bolted.

One of the benefits of being smaller than everyone else (even if he _was_ tall for his age) was that he could move faster than they had time to react. By the time that the Sunfire elf realized that Ezran was running for it, the boy was already halfway to the door.

His backpacks thumped against his back as he sprinted for the front door of the dining hall as fast as his legs would carry him, the elf shouting behind him.

“Wha―stop!”

Ezran didn’t stop, slamming into the glass door with his shoulder and shoving it open as he raced into the night, thoughts filled with every bad thing that could possibly happen if he were to get caught. It wouldn’t be as bad if Callum were captured―he _looked_ like an elf. Ezran was only human.

He could hear the Sunfire elf running after him, and Ezran increased his pace, bounding past several large trees where he could sense several animals hiding.

“Help!” he screeched at them, his pubescent voice cracking in his distress.

Fortunately, the animals in Xadia weren’t too different than the animals in Katolis. Most animals were benevolent―except for maybe raccoons―and willing to help him out. These ones were no exception.

Squirrel-like creatures with glowing silver fur and multiple tails swarmed out from the bushes and trees, scampering toward the Sunfire elf behind Ezran.

He didn’t stop to see if it had worked as he heard the elf begin to splutter and curse. Ezran made a hard left turn, speeding past another large group of bushes and nearly falling flat on his face at the sudden change of momentum. Panic dulled his senses somewhat, and he could feel his arms tingling in alarm as he pumped them as hard as he could.

_THUD!_

Ezran ran face-first into the body of someone else, sending them both crashing to the ground. He landed on his stomach, scraping his hands and knees as he caught himself before his head could konk against the pavement.

“Woah!” a female voice exclaimed. “Are you okay, little one?”

Ezran scrambled to his feet, hands flying to his hood to make sure that it was still in place and covering his human ears. His chest was heaving violently as he took in the appearance of the newcomer.

She appeared to be about Callum’s age and height, with shoulder-length white hair and small, hook-shaped purple marks under her eyes, which shone down at him, full of concern.

“Uh…” Ezran started, not sure what to say or if he had lost the Sunfire elf behind him. “Want a jelly tart?”

**< |>**

Rayla stared down at the boy in front of her in shock. What in the blazes was happening? She’d been walking back from her late night moon magic class, admiring the beauty of the campus as it was bathed in moonlight―and then this small _child_ had come barreling out of nowhere, knocking her to the ground. Not a lot of people could say that they’d done that. Then he’d offered her a jelly tart as if nothing was wrong!

He couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, with russet-colored skin and bright blue eyes that stared back up at her, full of surprise. Whoever this kid was, he was clearly not a college student. And judging from the smear of jam on his face, he’d definitely been into the jelly tarts―which made sense, if he was offering her one. Surely he hadn’t broken onto campus ground _just_ to steal jelly tarts?

“What are you doin’ here?” Rayla asked, kneeling down on one knee so that she was eye-level with the boy. Her accent had slipped into a thicker one, like it did when she was surprised or angry.

The child tugged the hood around his head farther down and quickly hid his hands in the folds of his dark blue cloak, as if he were scared of her. It was a good instinct to have, so she supposed she couldn’t blame him for it; Runaan had enforced the whole “stranger danger” philosophy in her quite well. “I…was…uh…” The boy suddenly straightened. “I was visiting my brother! But I…got lost. Can you help me find him?”

He had a strange accent, and Rayla decided that he must have come from somewhere on the border―typically in Xadia, the accents got thicker the further east you went. But he also had a strange sort of boyish quality to him; his childhood wasn’t quite over yet. He smiled up at her as if they’d known each other for years, and Rayla decided then and there that she liked this small boy.

“Sure,” she said, smiling back at him. “I can do that.”

Footsteps suddenly rang through the darkness, and both Rayla and the boy both immediately tensed. Out of instinct, she reached for her back, where she was used to keeping two swords, or at least a knife. Her hands met air.

Right. She was at a public college. Carrying weapons was sort of frowned upon. Blast!

Luckily, the danger was completely imagined, for a familiar figure came jogging out of the twilight a moment later.

Callum looked completely exhausted, beads of sweat running down his face in thick waves. His brown hair was sticking straight up in some places, and his clothes were violently disheveled, as if he had been in some sort of altercation. He seemed to be searching for something, and when his eyes landed on the boy in front of Rayla, they lit up with relief―and then alarm as he realized that she was near.

She placed one hand on her hip as she watched his hands flutter through a response to her presence.

_“Hi―Rayla, I didn’t know―have you met my brother?”_

Rayla cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at his flustered state. It would have been humorous, if it wasn’t the middle of the night and if she hadn’t just been knocked to the ground by a thirteen-year-old. She decided to never tell Runaan about that.

“Hi,” the boy next to her said, lifting an arm as if to wave at her before quickly lowering it. His hand never left the inside of his cloak.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, smiling once more at the boy in front of her. “What’s your name? And what are either of you doing out here this late?”

 _“What are_ you _doing out here this late?”_ Callum signed at her, wiping sweat off his forehead when he was finished. He walked closer, and at this distance she could see the soaked state of his clothes, like he had just run some sort of marathon. He stepped up to his brother’s side protectively, standing directly behind his shoulder.

“I had a class,” Rayla said. _Duh._ Everyone knew that Moonshadow elves liked to be out at night regardless. Skywing elves usually stuck to a diurnal schedule.

Come to think of it, did Callum’s brother even look like a Skywing elf?

“My name is Ez―” the boy stared, but Callum stumbled suddenly, knocking into his shoulder.

“―ymondias,” the boy finished. “Yep. That’s my name. Ezymondias. People call me Ez for short.”

“Well, Ez, it’s nice to meet you,” Rayla said, nodding at him. She looked at Callum. “But what are you two _doing_ out here? And why do you both look like you’ve been running from a banther?”

“We were―” Ez started, but Callum stepped in front of him and began to quickly sign.

 _“―playing tag.”_ Callum grinned at her, but the expression seemed a bit forced to her. _“Ez loves to play tag.”_

“Yeah!” Ez confirmed, nodding along vigorously. “I love it!”

Rayla looked between the two of them skeptically, but she could think of no logical reason why she should stop them from…whatever it was they were in the middle of. Clearly, they were unwilling to share it with her, and she knew that pressing the matter would not make them open up anymore.

“All right,” she eventually said, obviously surprising both of them. “You stay out of trouble, then. Especially you.” She pointed at Ez, smirking at him. “And next time you visit Callum here, I expect to get that jelly tart you promised me.”

Both boys were _terrible_ at hiding their relief. Who had taught either of them to lie? They were terrible at it.

 _“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rayla,”_ Callum signed, smiling at her as he wrapped an arm around his younger brother.

“Yeah,” Rayla said, waving as they turned to leave. “See you tomorrow.”

She found herself frowning as they vanished into the darkness. Those two certainly were strange, though she couldn’t put her finger on what was off with them.

Oh, well. It was nothing that couldn’t be sorted out by keeping an eye on them.

At least, that’s what she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the POV changes :^)
> 
> I really hope this chapter makes sense. Like, they're both a bit stupid. Have you noticed that that's pretty much true for everyone in the show? (I mean, I guess that's true of real people, but still...)
> 
> Thanks so much for all the positive comments, guys! I really appreciated it, and cranked this chapter out in about a day for you all. Again, if you notice any mistakes or have concerns, please say something? Like most of the characters in tdp, I too can be a bit stupid at times. Thanks!
> 
> read on!


	3. Mysticism and Divination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Professor Aaravos had to be the strangest teacher Callum had ever had."

“The cooks are _freaking out,_ ” Atlas was saying the next day at lunch. Callum put his tray down and sat across from him, listening carefully.

“What do you mean?” Kale asked, sipping from a bottle of golden sunberry juice. He was lounging on the table’s bench casually, but he moved when Cressida approached, shooting him a disapproving look.

“Apparently,” Zell interjected in her scholarly voice without looking up from her open textbook, “someone broke in last night and stole half a batch of jelly tarts. One of the cooks even got punched in the throat.”

Callum’s stomach rumbled traitorously, and he hoped that none of the others had heard it. He and Ezran had gorged themselves on the jelly tarts the night before, trying his best to get rid of the evidence. They’d still had plenty left over―Ezran and Bait had fallen asleep in a small pile of the pastries. It would have been cute if it wasn’t also incriminating. At least Callum didn’t have to worry about smuggling more food to him.

“Wow, Callum, isn’t that strange?” Rayla said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat as she sent him a knowing look. She had a smug, almost gloating look in her violet eyes, and Callum could read the underlying message clear enough: _I knew you were up to something._

Callum shifted guiltily, but he still signed, _“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”_

 _It could have been worse,_ he told himself as Rayla interpreted his words for the others. At least no one other than her had seen their faces, and despite her subtle teasing, he doubted she would tell anyone with authority about their excursion the night before. Although, his chest still hurt from where that Sunfire elf had tackled him…

“Yeah,” Atlas said with a grin, lifting up Callum’s backpack. “That’s why you have jam on the inside of your pack.”

Callum’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of red jelly coating the inside of his bag. How had―when had they stolen that from him? He’d _just_ sat down!

As his face reddened, he caught the Moonshadow elves at the table sharing a conspiratorial look. He sighed deeply.

 _“Was it really that obvious?”_ he asked them.

Cressida sent one of those disapproving looks his way. He’d quickly realized, over the last week, that she was _very_ good at giving those. Almost as good as his own mother had been. His heart gave a little twinge.

“You couldn’t have been _more_ obvious,” Cressida said. “You have a little smudge of jelly right here.” She gestured at the upper corner of her mouth.

Horrified, Callum lifted his hand to find that she was right. How many others had guessed that he had been part of the heist last night? If he wasn’t careful, he could lead them right to Ezran!

“Don’t worry, Callum,” Rayla said, uncorking her moonberry juice―it seemed to be the only thing she drank. “I haven’t told anyone.”

Well, at least that was a comfort. She didn’t seem to be too curious about Ezran (not openly, at least), which lifted a massive weight off of Callum’s shoulders.

“Besides,” Kale added. “It’s not like you talk to anyone else, so they can’t―”

Cressida elbowed him hard in the ribs as Callum’s face fell. “Kale!”

“What? I―oh. Sorry, Callum.”

 _“It’s fine,”_ Callum replied, sending them an encouraging smile that he did not feel. The loss of his voice was something that he felt everyday. Just that morning, he’d had a question in his History of Magic class, but hadn’t been able to communicate it to the teacher; it wasn’t like he could just throw a paper airplane with a note on it at the professor, and the only other people at the school that he’d met so far who understood sign language were Lujanne and Rayla. And it would take too much effort to try and track down an interpreter―especially an _elven_ interpreter. Callum was having enough trouble with his sign language as it was; he could only use four fingers, after all. He was just lucky that Rayla hadn’t noticed anything _else_ amiss about him. Heaven knows there was plenty.

“What classes do you have today?” Cressida asked him after an awkward silence.

 _“‘Mysticism and Divination,’”_ Callum replied, spelling out the words that he didn’t know. _“It’s the first time I’ve had it. The professor didn’t even show up last week.”_

Zell looked up suddenly as Rayla verbalized. Zell’s head cocked curiously at the words _mysticism_ and _divination_.

“Who’s the professor?” she asked.

Callum racked his brain for a moment, then spelled out the name. _“Aaravos.”_

Everyone at the table suddenly shared some sort of _look_ , as if they knew something that he didn’t. It wasn’t that they looked worried, just…perplexed.

 _“What?”_ he asked them. _“What is it?”_

It was Zell who spoke.

“Professor Aaravos is a Startouch elf,” she said, brow furrowed. “And he teaches a class about star magic.”

_“What’s so strange about that?”_

“Creatures connected to star magic are incredibly rare,” Rayla answered, frowning thoughtfully. “And most elves take classes that align with their connected arcanum. There probably won’t be too many kids in your class.”

Callum pondered that for a moment. From what he had heard about star magic, it was rather mystic and a bit hard to grasp. It would certainly be interesting to meet a “Startouch” elf. He couldn’t remember ever seeing one before, and wondered what they looked like. It would actually probably be a good thing that not many others would be in the class―it meant that he would actually be able to write things down and communicate with this “Aaravos.”

“I’m surprised he’s even still teaching,” Cressida commented. “Usually, when a class doesn’t have enough students, it’s cancelled.”

“Yeah, but I heard Aaravos is brilliant,” Zell added. “I’m sure the college doesn’t want to let him go.”

If anything, that only served to increase Callum’s excitement for the class. Learning about magic was one of his favorite things in the world, and the chance to learn about something that was rare in the magical world made his pulse quicken.

Rayla apparently noticed this, rolling her eyes.

“Nerd,” she said with a small smirk.

**< |>**

Rayla shouldered her pack and entered Blossom Hall with a sigh. _Why_ was homework such an essential part of college? Xadia Academy was a _magic_ university. Homework shouldn’t be an issue.

She climbed the stairs that led to the second floor dejectedly. Blossom Hall was three stories; the first floor held the common room, which no one ever used, as the bookshelves covered in dust indicated. The second floor was the girls’ dorms, and the third floor belonged to the boys.

She leaned against the railing of the steps as the books in her backpack threatened to tip her over. Seriously! College was a lot more tedious than she had originally thought it would be.

Rayla groaned in disgust as her hand brushed something sticky on the railing. She wiped the goo off on her pants without thinking, then hesitated.

She looked down at the railing, only to find that there was an orange handprint there―some sort of jelly, perhaps? The handprint seemed too small to belong to one of the college students.

Oh, and it also had five fingers.

Instinctively, Rayla reached for her back once more before she stopped herself. That was impossible. There was no _way_ a human was at the university. It was about as likely as Thunder himself swooping down from the sky. It had to be some sort of mistake―perhaps the handprint had been smudged in such a way as to create the illusion of another finger?

But no. As she looked up the railing, she found that there were more jelly handprints, all of them with five fingers. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Pulse juddering in her veins, Rayla followed the trail up the stairs, only to find that the next set of steps had the small handprints as well. Whoever this human was, they had gone all the way up to the third floor. Why?

She looked down the hallway, where her dorm room waited, then adjusted her backpack and followed the trail.

**< |>**

When Callum walked into the classroom, he was a bit put off by the strangeness of the room. Considering that he had grown used to Viren’s office back home, that was saying quite a bit.

The classroom was small, maybe only twice the size of his small dorm room. Thick purple curtains covered the windows, completely masking any sunlight that might have filtered inside the chamber. The walls were painted black, only serving to add to the darkness of the room. Large shelves lined the back of the classroom, housing all sorts of strange items―geodes with purple crystals, glass bottles with strange, purple worms crawling around, star charts, golden cups…Callum even saw a curved knife that looked like it might be ceremonial. There was a small black chalkboard hanging on the wall at the front of the room. Additionally, there was a small wooden writing desk―presumably belonging to this “Aaravos”―to the left of the board. In front of that was a small row of about three smaller desks for students. There was a small door to the right, presumably a small closet.

Callum was the first person to arrive. Not even the professor was there yet. Curious, he set his bag down on the first desk and walked to the shelves in the back.

The items were even more strange up close. The worms that crawled around in the jars were a light purple in color, but seemed to have strange specks of light embedded in their skin―almost like stars. They even have small, dark purple mandibles that looked like they could pack quite the bite.

The other items were plenty interesting as well. The star charts were very detailed, so much so that Callum considered copying one down in his sketchbook so he could study it later. The golden cups that decorated the shelves had intricate carvings of elves and dragons. He couldn’t be sure, but there even seemed to be humans depicted on one; though they seemed to be wielding dark magic, of course. He shivered and moved on to the other artifacts.

Most curious of all was the centerpiece of the shelves. It was a small box, no longer than his forearm. It was made out of dark teak wood, with sturdy golden hinges and an elaborate carving of a wing on the cover. The lock was made out of thick, dark steel, and it looked to be very old.

Callum could _feel_ the magic radiating from it. There was something dark, something _powerful_ about it, but there was also…something else. A strange sort of warmth.

“I wouldn’t touch that, if I were you,” a deep voice suddenly said.

Callum jumped and turned to find another figure in the room.

“I,” the elf said, stepping into the light, “am Aaravos. You must be Callum.”

**< |>**

Rayla crept up the stairs carefully, wary of running into any humans. Granted, she had never met one, but after the stories that Runaan had told her, she wasn’t willing to confront one by herself. The tales of dark magic alone were enough to make her shudder.

What would a human be doing at Xadia Academy? The war had ended one hundred years ago, true. And it wasn’t unheard of for humans to visit Xadia from time to time, and for elves to do the same. But the bias on both sides made that rather difficult, and as a result, no human had ever been admitted to Xadia Academy―and no elf had ever been admitted to Katolis University. So what was a human doing here now?

For the third time in twenty-four hours, Rayla found herself reaching for her swords. She growled in frustration when she realized that she couldn’t have them with her, not even for this.

She received a few weird looks from the male elves wandering outside their rooms once she reached the third floor, but she did her best to ignore them. The jelly handprints were more sporadic and more like little jelly blobs now, but she was still able to follow them.

Rayla passed through the first hallway of the boys dorm, feeling significantly on edge. How had a human gotten this far into Blossom Hall without anyone noticing? Surely _someone_ would have seen a human just wandering around campus. They weren’t that easy to hide.

As she reached a bend in the hallway, she uttered a soft curse as the jelly handprints disappeared entirely. Clearly, whoever was leaving the trail had run out of jam. Why were their hands even covered in jelly, anyway?

“Excuse me,” Rayla said, catching the attention of a passing Moonshadow elf. “Have you seen anything…strange recently?”

The Moonshadow elf cocked his head at her. “You don’t come up to the third floor very often, do you?”

She shook her head. Clearly, she was female. Girls weren’t usually allowed onto the third floor, especially past eight in the evening―though she’d never seen or heard of anyone enforcing that idea. And she didn’t particularly like the way that the elf had said that.

He leaned closer as if sharing some great secret. “They say,” he said in a voice so hushed it was almost comical, “that room 313 is haunted.”

Rayla scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please. There’s no such thing as ‘haunted.’”

“Yes there is!” the boy insisted. “And it’s been haunted for a while! Nobody even wants that room, and the keys to the room always disappear without explanation.”

She huffed and stepped away from him, hoping he would get the message and give her some personal space. “I _meant_ anything strange as in _people_. Real people. You know, like you?”

“Oh,” the boy replied. “Uh, no.”

Rayla thrusted her head back and groaned in exasperation. “Do you at least know what the room closest to this spot is?”

The Moonshadow elf thought about that for a moment. “This spot right here? Uh…probably 311. Why?”

Rayla walked past him without another word, too worried about the possible security implications to be polite. Was it possible…? No, it couldn’t be. That would be insane.

As it turned out, room 311 was right around the corner―and sure enough, there was a bit of jelly on the handle. But there were no lights on under the door, so she assumed that no one was in the room at the moment.

 _Great,_ Rayla thought, slumping against the wall across from the door. _Now I wish I’d taken those lockpicking lessons a bit more seriously._ She’d always been clinically _awful_ at picking locks, preferring the use of force to finesse in a situation where she’d need to get inside a room. Or climbing in through the window. Runaan had always told her that she hadn’t had enough patience for the skill, and he’d been right. She knew her weaknesses.

So what was she supposed to do? Bust down the door, in the middle of the hallway? It was entirely possible that the human wasn’t even in there. She didn’t want to take the chance. She could always ask around, see if anyone knew who the room belonged to. But after dealing with _that_ idiot in the hallway, she wasn’t confident that anyone could tell her what she needed to know. She certainly wasn’t going to try to climb up to the third floor from the outside―especially not in broad daylight. That only left one option.

She’d sit. And she’d wait.

**< |>**

Professor Aaravos had to be the strangest teacher Callum had ever had.

He was incredibly tall, so much so that Callum was sure Aaravos would tower over him even if the Startouch elf were sitting in a chair. His skin was a soft purple color, and had three white (almost luminescent) diamond shapes under his eyes. Like the worms that Callum had noticed one the shelves behind him, Aaravos also had small pinpoints of light embedded in his skin, like miniature stars. Like Rayla, he also had shoulder-length white hair. His horns were larger than the ones Callum had seen on the other students, long and jagged things that were a dark purple. He wore dark purple robes, and because of the dim lighting of the room, he almost seemed to blend in with the surroundings.

Callum waved nervously at the tall elf, reaching for his sketchbook with his other hand in order to communicate. However, Aaravos was already saying something else.

“That is what we call a _dybbuk_ box,” he said in his deep voice, moving past Callum to gesture toward the box he had just been examining. “It is said to hold the spirit of a dastardly spirit inside.” He turned around, sending Callum a confident smile. “I would hate to see what were to happen if it were to be opened.”

Callum took the hint and stepped away from the box, taking the charcoal pencil that he kept strapped to the outside of his sketchbook and hastily scrawling out the word _“Sorry.”_

“Don’t worry about it,” Aaravos replied, turning away from the shelf and striding toward the front of the room. “But you should know, if you are to be the only student taking my class, that most of the artifacts behind you can be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

Callum swallowed nervously. He was going to be the _only_ student in the class? That was…not what he had been expecting. He’d thought that at least two other students would be in the class, which he could handle just fine. But if it was just him…

He would have been nervous about that under normal circumstances, but the prospect nearly terrified him now. Aaravos had an incredible sense of intelligence about him, and if Callum slipped up even _once,_ the professor might become suspicious.

At least it was a good thing that Callum couldn’t speak. Otherwise, he was certain that he would have blurted out something useless, before giving almost everything away. It was a benefit that he never thought he would be thankful for; it must have saved his skin a dozen times by now.

 _“I’m the only student?”_ Callum wrote in his notebook, below the first word he’d written. _“What will class be like?”_

“Either significantly easy or incredibly difficult for both of us, I am sure,” Aaravos replied, sitting on the edge of his writing desk. He gestured for Callum to sit at one of the student desks, and he did so hesitantly. The professor’s voice was simultaneously charming and off putting, and Callum couldn’t decide how that made him felt.

“I only have one request,” Aaravos said as soon as Callum was seated.

Callum almost signed the word for _“What?”_ but stopped himself in time. He was sure that Professor Aaravos couldn’t understand sign language, otherwise he would have said something. Instead, Callum nodded at the teacher to show him that he understood.

“It is my understanding that you cannot speak,” Aaravos continued, very matter-of-factly. His face remained neutral, as if he were saying something that was absolutely normal.

 _Duh,_ Callum thought. Really, what was with people and pointing that out today?

“I ask that you acquire an interpreter,” Aaravos said, drawing Callum’s attention back to the conversation. “Seeing as this class will be mostly one-on-one in my office, I am expecting lots of questions. Even so, the class will be easier for both of us if he can communicate in the most effective manner possible.”

Callum blinked. If he had been able to “acquire an interpreter,” he would have brought one. Although, to be honest, he hadn’t really tried.

He considered the idea for a moment. Someone to translate sign language for him would certainly make things easier―and safer. If he said something wrong, he could always quickly correct himself or blame the mistake on the interpreter.

And he _did_ want to learn more about this kind of magic. If not many people were connected to the Star Arcanum, then that meant it was an advantage. Callum could use every one of those that he could get―right now, he only had one, and it was in the form of the fake elf ears on his head.

 _“Okay,”_ Callum wrote on his paper. _“But what if I can’t find one?”_

“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Aaravos said, his voice taking on a strange cadence that Callum wasn’t sure how to interpret. “Star magic has many uses, you know.”

Callum wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. There was something in Aaravos’s expression, something in his voice. Besides, Callum decided it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to have someone mess around with his vocal chords. Not yet, anyway. He would prefer to have someone he trusted make that attempt―not some professor that he didn’t even know.

 _“Okay,”_ he wrote down. _“I’ll try to find someone.”_

But who on _earth_ would want to interpret for him in a one-on-one class?

**< |>**

As it turned out, the third floor had a very nice, small couch area where Rayla could stake out room 311 quite nicely from a fair distance away. She was even able to do a bit of homework as she waited, ignoring the strange looks that the other elves gave her by flipping her hood up to hide her face and a bit of her femininity.

Perhaps she was taking this to the extreme. But if there was even a _chance_ that a human had snuck into Xadia Academy, she had to investigate. Everyone knew that their obsessions with dark magic were dangerous. She could only think of a few reasons why a human mage (for surely it _had_ to be one of their so-called “mages”) would sneak into an elven, magical college, and none of them were good.

It was a long time before anyone showed up, human or otherwise. Rayla did her best to stay alert even as she filled out the worksheet she had been given. When she finished it, she did her best to look like she was there for a reason, and not just some creepy girl in the corner in a place where she wasn’t even supposed to be. Surely her roommate, Luna, would be wondering where she was by now, even though Luna and Rayla hardly interacted beyond saying “goodnight” to each other.

Rayla forced herself to pay attention as she saw a shadow at the end of the hallway she was staking out. Pretending to scribble something in her notes, she watched through her peripheral vision as a figure turned the corner, digging a set of keys out of his pocket as he turned to room 311.

 _Gotcha,_ she triumphantly thought as she looked up, prepared to shout something at the suspicious figure.

Her words caught in her throat, however, as she recognized the boy who was currently unlocking room 311.

Several pieces of information clicked into place for her. The jelly handprints―as if the culprit had just scarfed down a bunch of jelly tarts. The small size of those prints, as if they belonged to a child. Ez, the boy who had crashed into her the night before, and how his hands had never left his cloak, or how his hood was carefully pulled over his ears.

What in the name of the six primal sources was Callum doing with a human boy in his room?

**< |>**

She was watching him carefully the next morning, but in a curious turn of events, it was actually Callum who approached her, looking nervous about something as they waited in the lunch line.

For a nervous moment, Rayla thought she had been discovered―that somehow he had learned of her spying on him as he entered his room the night before. But she quickly realized that was not the case.

 _“Can―you―help―me―with―something?”_ he attempted to sign at her, only using one hand as a time, alternating which one was holding the tray of food he possessed.

Rayla sighed, keeping her face carefully neutral as she took the tray from him with her free hand so that he could speak―er, _sign_ ―freely to her. “What do you need?”

Her mind was still spinning with her discovery. Surely she had to be imagining things? It was impossible; no elf in their right mind would harbor a human in their dorm room. Although, the boy who’d called himself “Ezymondias” certainly didn’t seem like a threat, and he was just a child…perhaps there was more to it?

Or perhaps she was just making excuses. It was common knowledge that, despite the peace that had persisted for the past one hundred years, humans were not to be trusted. Their continuing use of dark magic only served to reinforce that belief.

She realized that Callum was signing to her and forced herself to focus at the task at hand.

 _“I need someone to interpret for me in Aaravos’s class,”_ he told her, pausing to rub the back of his neck awkwardly as his face reddened. _“And I was wondering if you would be willing to do it?”_

Rayla blinked.

 _“That is, if you’re free Thursdays at four,”_ Callum quickly signed, his hands becoming more and more sloppy in his nervousness. _“It’s okay if you can’t, I just thought_ **_―”_ **

“I’ll do it,” she cut him off, surprising both of them.

Callum stopped. _“You will?”_

Rayla took a moment to consider her answer before she responded with a nod and an encouraging smile. She needed answers―what better way to get them than to spend more time with the Skywing elf who was harboring a human child? It wasn’t like she could just _ask_ him about the secret he was keeping from everyone. It would be best to try and catch him in the act of _something_.

Besides, Runaan had drilled this particular lesson into her head: _know thy enemy._

Whether that enemy was Callum or not, she’d soon find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like now would be a good time to mention that I don't know anything about sign language? The most I know is how to say "I love you" because my one friend taught me, but that's about it.
> 
> Also: please keep leaving comments! It keeps me motivated! I might not be able to update as often over the next few weeks (meaning there might be a dry spot for a few days at some point, idk when), so I'll try to update as often as I can. Thanks!
> 
> please give me a heads up with inconsistencies!


	4. The New Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Whatever the grand mystery of Xadia Academy was, it ended tonight."

Several days passed uneventfully. Well, not entirely. The most exciting part of the week was when Atlas sneezed on Zell, and the poor girl jerked away in horror, only to fall right out of her seat.

Rayla wasn’t particularly happy about the monotony of the week. She’d been watching Callum very carefully, but it was almost like he was on to her; either that, or he simply wasn’t involved at all.

But no. He had to be; there was no other explanation for the _human_ prints of _jelly_ leading to his room, after he had stolen _jelly tarts_ from the kitchen. Beyond that, she’d noticed a few strange mannerisms of his: he had a weird way of signing, if she looked closely enough. It was almost like he was signing _around_ certain words. It made sense, she supposed, if he really was from the border; the humans’ type of sign language had likely gotten mixed up with the elven version. It wasn’t _terribly_ different, but the humans had an extra finger that they didn’t even use! Ridiculous. But if he was keeping a human fugitive in his room, it was entirely possible that he had been around other humans in the past…perhaps even learned sign language from that human…

Her paranoia probably wasn’t helped by her lack of sleep the past few days. The new moon was fast approaching, and Moonshadow elves never had a fun time during that time of the month.

She was actually surprised that Professor Lujanne hadn’t just cancelled class for that reason. Last month, the new moon had been fairly passive, so it hadn’t been an issue. This month, the moon was being quite aggressive.

That was something that most Moonshadow elves learned through hard experience; the debilitating effects of the new moon varied from month to month, depending on the weather, the cloud coverage, and a bunch of other factors that she couldn’t remember. For some reason, the sky had decided to be particularly venomous this month.

Rayla blew her nose violently as she plopped her bag down at her seat in the back of the class. Even before she had suspected Callum of some sort of wrongdoing, she’d begun sitting back there with him. She’d felt sympathy for him, and wanted him to be around one more person who actually understood what it was that he was trying to say. She was a bit frustrated to find that she still felt that sympathy for him, though her decision to sit with him now was more motivated by the safety of the college.

Callum was dressed rather strangely today. He was wearing a thick woolen beanie that covered half of his head and still had about three inches of slack left in the back. He was wearing a thicker coat than usual, as if he were cold, and wore leather gloves over his hands. His burgundy scarf was wrapped tighter than usual around his neck as well, making him look strangely hunched over. He also had a box of tissues nearby, unknowingly mirroring Rayla, who had one in her bag. She noticed that the other Moonshadow elves who sat farther down the desk had distanced themselves even more than usual.

“What’s wrong with you today?” Rayla asked him as she sat down. Up close, she could see that he was even paler than usual, his skin almost translucent.

_“I’m sick,”_ Callum signed. _“I think it’s a cold or something.”_

She immediately scooted her chair several inches away. Of _all_ the days…

“It’s not you,” she assured him when she saw the almost offended look on his face. “It’s the new moon tomorrow, did you know that?”

He shook his head, looking at her with curious eyes. The blue color of his face marks seemed paler too, somehow. He must have _really_ been sick. Perhaps it was a human sort of disease? It would have been much easier for him to catch it with the human she was harboring in his room. She’d never been one to believe a lot of the (obviously exaggerated) stories about humans, but it was also a known fact that the bodies of elves and the bodies of humans were different, and thus were subject to diseases from the other.

“Moonshadow elves are weaker on the new moon,” she explained to him. Despite the fact that Moonshadow elves were one of the most common, right next to Sunfire elves, not a lot of people knew that, surprisingly. “Sometimes it’s not too bad, but other times we can get _really_ sick. So, uh…sneeze the other direction, please.”

Callum shot her a sympathetic smile. For the millionth time, Rayla found herself questioning her theory. He was a nice boy, and if someone had told her a week ago that he would be harboring a human in his dorm room, she never would have believed them.

It was a good thing that she was the one who had started to suspect him, at least. If Talvo had managed to find out―unlikely, since he was dumber than a bag of bricks―he would have attacked Callum based on general principle. At least this way, mercy would be a considering factor in what happened next. Rayla had plenty of experience in _that_ department. Hopefully, the situation wouldn’t escalate any further. Hopefully.

Lujanne’s class passed as uneventfully as the week had, with the learning at the bare minimum. It was clear that the older moon mage was feeling the effects of the new moon just as clearly as everyone else was, for she sat in a tall chair for the whole duration of class and spoke in a quieter voice than usual, as if she had a headache. Rayla found it a struggle not to fall asleep, and more than once Callum had prodded her awake with a poke from his pencil.

By the time class was finally over, Rayla was already dreading the rest of the day, and wondered if she might be able to spike her moonberry juice with the pulp from the _arabin_ plant, which would give her that extra boost of energy needed just to make it to lunch.

She was so busy contemplating this prospect that she hardly even realized that she had walked out of the class until she was halfway down the hallway, her backpack over her shoulder. As she looked around through eyes that were only half open, she realized that Callum had not exited the classroom, which was strange, considering that he was usually one of the first ones out.

Her suspicion was peaked instantly, and she pushed aside her exhaustion with little difficulty. Callum was _up to something_. She knew it.

So she crept carefully back to the door of the classroom, expecting to find Callum skulking in the shadows or some other sort of obviously suspicious nonsense. Instead, she heard a voice coming from inside the classroom and pressed herself against the wall as she eavesdropped.

“…entirely possible that the severity of the new moon this month is affecting the enchantment,” Lujanne’s voice said. She paused, as if watching someone say something in sign language, before adding, “I doubt _he_ has anything to do with it, Callum. Not even he has magic that powerful. No, this is simply a strange celestial occurrence.”

Rayla frowned. What on earth were they talking about? Why would the new moon affect Callum in any way? He wasn’t a Moonshadow elf.

She was forced to make a silent run for it as she heard footsteps approaching the doorway. As she peeked out from the cover of a nearby corner, she found Callum exit the room looking worried.

What had he gotten himself _into?_

**< |>**

When Callum approached the lunch table where they typically ate, he was surprised to find that it was completely and utterly empty.

In fact, the whole dining hall seemed to be emptier than usual. When he looked around, Callum found that many Moonshadow elves in particular were missing, which lined up with what Rayla had told him earlier in the day. Perhaps they were all taking the chance to rest?

But no. He had just reached the table, accepting that he would probably be eating by himself that afternoon, when a finger suddenly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Rayla said, sending him one of those small smiles that she seemed to use so often. She nodded at the doors of the dining hall. “We’re eating outside today, dummy.”

Callum frowned at that. _“Why?”_ he managed to sign with one hand.

She shrugged, tugging on the sleeve of his coat to get him to follow her as she began to walk for the door. She was holding her tray in one hand, and a bottle of moonberry juice rolled around haphazardly as she spoke.

“We need all the nutrients we can get before the new moon,” she said, gesturing to her tray of food, which Callum noticed was filled with fruits and vegetables, more so than usual. “And that includes sunlight. Besides, it’s a nice day. You’ll want to be out here, you’ll see.”

As she led him outside, Callum wondered why it was that she always seemed to be at his side, lately. He may have been stupid (by his own admission), but he wasn’t _completely_ oblivious. Usually. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had done to irk her, but she had been watching him very carefully as of late.

She wasn’t suspicious of him, was she? He really hoped not. Callum wasn’t sure what he would do if she was; he wasn’t sure there was anything he _could_ do.

Besides, that was unlikely. Callum had been extraordinarily cautious; making sure the door was tightly locked behind him whenever he entered his dorm room, making sure that Ezran was out of view whenever he left or entered, making sure to brush up on his elven customs, learning to only use four fingers, not signing anything when he wasn’t sure about it, being sure to recharge exactly as he had been told, and more of the like.

Callum had hardly noticed his surroundings on the way into the dining hall, focused on keeping the hat on his head and the gloves on his hands. His conversation with Lujanne after class had left him on edge, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do in the meantime―and he was starting to hate how often that thought was invading his mind. With Rayla on his tail the way she was, it would be suspicious for him to just hide in his dorm room with Ezran for lunch. He would just have to hope that nobody would notice that anything was amiss.

Callum would have been crazy if he didn’t say that Xadia was beautiful. It really was, and it had him wishing that he had a set of paints so he could attempt to give his drawings of the orange and purple trees and the cerulean hued grass life. Rayla led him to a spot underneath a large tree with bark that was the same color as his favorite scarf and bright orange leaves shaped like raindrops. He did his best not to gape at it as they approached, reminding himself that he was supposed to be an elf who had lived in Xadia all his life.

Instead, he focused on the small group of Moonshadow elves who looked like they were in a fair bit of suffering at the base of the tree. All of them looked much paler than usual, and each one looked as if they would rather be anywhere but where they were. Zell was lying on her back, her textbook opened and covering her face. Atlas sat next to her, draining the last dregs out of a bottle of sunberry juice before moving on to another one almost desperately. Cressida and Kale sat across from them, supporting each other as they scarfed down their fruits and vegetables with a sort of rabid ferocity.

It all would have been funny if it wasn’t also concerning. From what Callum knew of Moonshadow elves, they were incredibly tough, and hated to show weakness. The fact that they were doing so now only served to show how severe the new moon was going to be that night.

He felt his palms begin to sweat at that thought, and forced himself to focus on something else as he and Rayla sat on a red tree root.

Zell grunted something in acknowledgement, though how she knew that anyone else had joined them when she had a book covering her face, Callum would never know. The others uttered similar greetings, and he was almost amused by the fact that he wasn’t the only non-verbal one anymore.

“I feel like whatever it is that bulls drop after they’ve eaten,” Zell groaned after a moment.

Callum and Rayla shared a look.

“You mean bull…droppings?” Rayla asked, looking just as confused as Callum felt. She seemed to be the most functional out of all the Moonshadow elves, but she still looked miserable. She had looked a lot better that morning, and Callum realized that their condition must get worse the later in the day it became.

_“I’m fairly sure you’re not using that expression right anyway,”_ Callum signed, smiling a little as he remembered his aunt teaching him the sign language for just that word.

“Whatever,” Zell grunted.

That wasn’t like her at all. From what Callum had seen of her so far, she was always the first to correct _them_ whenever they made mistakes in their grammar (except for him, of course; he could blame any mistakes on Rayla’s translating).

“Cheer up!” Kale said with mock enthusiasm. He forced a smile and attempted to catch a moonberry in his mouth like he did every lunch. It hit him in the eye, and he cursed as he flailed, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Callum couldn’t help it. He laughed. He had no voice, but he laughed, making a strange wheezing sound as he watched Kale stumble to his feet, covered in dirt and blinking red juice out of his eye. The others quickly joined in, until they were just a bunch of guffawing idiots under a tree.

Their amusement was short-lived, however, as another figure began to clap sarcastically, stepping under the shade of the tree with a sadistic grin.

Callum felt a stone drop into his stomach. Of all days, why today? Why now?

Talvo smirked as he stepped closer, regarding the weakened Moonshadow elves with distaste. “Well, well, well. Not so tough now, are you?”

Everyone was standing in an instant, even Zell, her book flopping to the ground, completely discarded. Callum clenched his fists in frustration. Why was it that he _always_ attracted bullies, no matter where he was? Did he have some sort of sign on his back or something?

“Careful, Talvo,” Rayla said, narrowing her purple eyes at him. “You’re all alone, remember? What’s the matter? Couldn’t find any friends to help you get yourself injured?”

The threat would have been a lot more effective if her voice wasn’t shaking slightly, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t need friends to get past you,” Talvo said. “I only want him.”

Callum felt a flash of alarm as Talvo pointed directly at him. Callum hadn’t even done anything to him, and already they were enemies!

His indignancy gave him a moment’s courage, and he held up a symbol on his right hand, doing his best to imitate a bull’s horns with his index and ring finger as he mimed the dung dropping down with his left hand. It was Aunt Amaya’s favorite expression.

From the look on Talvo’s face, it was clear that he didn’t get it, but everyone else did. It was the snort from Kale that betrayed him, igniting Talvo’s golden eyes with rage. He took an angry step forward, and Callum scrambled back as he winced away from the larger Sunfire elf, but no blow ever came.

Instead, as Talvo made another step, Rayla took one as well, lashing out with a thick stick that she had somehow plucked from the ground without anyone seeing. The branch hit his leg with a heavy _thud,_ and he crashed to the ground a moment later.

Callum gaped at Rayla as she leaned casually against the tree. She―she’d just _swept the leg!_

Talvo uttered a series of rather vulgar curses as he stood, eyes full of fire. But this time, he hesitated, viewing Rayla with a mixture of disdain and apprehension.

“Rayla is the fencing team’s best player right now, Talvo,” Cressida said with a satisfied look on her face. “Didn’t you know that?”

Talvo looked at the circle of Moonshadow elves around him, growled one last curse as he glared at Callum, then turned on his heel and stalked off.

_“That,”_ Callum signed at Rayla as soon as the bully was gone, _“was awesome.”_

If he had a voice, he would have yelped in surprise as Rayla suddenly sagged, and he caught her shoulders out of pure instinct. He could feel her shaking just slightly, and suddenly realized that she was just as affected by the new moon as everyone else; she was just better at hiding it.

“Woah, sit down, Rayla,” Cressida said, concern written all over her face.

Callum helped her do just that, making sure that she leaned against the bark of the tree before she shrugged him off with a grunt.

_“Thank you,”_ he told her.

She shrugged in response, reaching for a bottle of moonberry juice. She downed it in one gulp before saying, “Talvo is a jerk.”

“On that we can all agree,” Cressida said with a groan as she and the others sat back down as well.

_“I didn’t know Xadia Academy had a fencing team,”_ Callum signed after a moment of silence filled with exhaustion. The Moonshadow elves around him were doing their best to soak up the sun and eat their nutrients, but he could tell even that was a struggle for them.

“Of course we do,” Atlas said, ignoring the juice that stained the corners of his mouth. “What other sport would we play?”

Callum had to remind himself not to answer that one. Elves had different sporting events than humans did. At least fencing was something that they had in common.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Zell said, looking up from her attempt to slice a starfruit into smaller pieces. “Did you hear that the one human university…what’s its name?”

“Katolis University,” Cressida supplied. Callum felt his back muscles tighten.

“Right. That one.” Zell waved her hand in dismissal, obviously not caring too much about the name of the college. “Their new president wants to put their college in the same fencing league as ours.”

Callum had gone as tense as a bow string, and he had to force himself to relax when he felt Rayla watching him.

“Why would he do that?” Kale demanded. “That’s ridiculous. We’d wipe the floor with them.”

Callum carefully placed a berry in his mouth and chewed, struggling to keep his breathing even. It was as if something were _pulling_ at him, a memory that threatened to topple him. He fought to maintain his calm.

“Rumor has it that the new president hates elves,” Atlas said, amusement on his face as he thoughtfully chewed on a piece of celery. “What’s his name again? Vegan? Virus?”

_“Viren,”_ Callum signed, his hands shaking just slightly. _“His name is Viren.”_

**< |>**

That night was not fun for Rayla.

It seemed like every Moonshadow elf in Blossom Hall must have been awake, for the footsteps outside her room seemed painfully loud, like drums banging on the inside of her skull. She and Luna took turns retching in the bathroom, and when Rayla wasn’t busy battling her nausea, she was curled up under her blankets, shivering so violently that the whole bed shook with her. At several points in the night, she seriously considered knocking herself out just to be able to sleep through the torture of the new moon.

But she must have managed it at some point, because the next thing she knew, she was waking up to beams of sunlight violently stabbing her in the eyes.

Rayla groaned and smacked a hand over her eyelids, but immediately regretted it as a headache practically split her skull open. It was a good thing she wasn’t nauseous anymore, for she seriously doubted her ability to move out of her bed. Or at all, really.

She’d heard it described that the morning after a new moon often felt similar to a hangover. If that was the case, then she was never going to drink, ever.

Granted, she was eighteen now, and thus had plenty of experience in dealing with new moons, but this one felt ten times worse than what she had grown used to. It was as if the sky, moon, and stars had all conspired together to make her life miserable for several hours.

Runaan had once explained the workings of the new moon to her when she was just a child, and too young to understand what was happening to her once a month.

“Your body is used to having a connection to the moon, little one,” he’d told her. “But the new moon takes that away. Your body doesn’t know what to do, so it gets sick.”

That was the simple explanation. Rayla couldn’t bring herself to remember any more information as her headache grew in intensity.

She was _not_ going to class today. There was no possible way. She’d sooner throw herself off the roof. Although, even that would involve moving out of bed…

Rayla groaned and rolled over, hiding her face in her covers to shield her eyes from the aggressive sunlight. At least there was one good thing that came out of her _never leaving her room ever again_ : she wouldn’t have to face any Sunfire elves (especially Talvo), who were always smug after a new moon.

_At least_ their _primal source doesn’t fluctuate like ours,_ Rayla thought grumpily, keeping her eyes screwed tightly shut.

Actually, _none_ of the other primal sources had a schedule like the moon seemed to. That was completely unfair! Moonshadow elves truly were the toughest…

When she woke again, it seemed to be midday. She had slept through breakfast and lunch, and she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Still, she seemed to have regained some of her strength―at least enough to extricate herself from her blankets and draw the curtains closed, casting her dorm room in wonderful, blissful darkness. Her headache immediately lessened.

Rayla stretched her neck, carefully stepping over a pile of clothes that belonged to Luna, who was passed out in her own bed not too far away. Rayla ignored her, striding to the small bathroom that they shared. It was easy navigating the room in the darkness―Moonshadow elves could see clearly in the dark.

She winced as she looked at her reflection in the bathroom’s mirror. Her hair was sticking straight up again (go figure), and her eyes were bloodshot and cushioned by dark purple bags. Lovely. If she were any more disheveled, she could pass for a banther.

After attempting to clean herself up―she managed to get her hair straightened out, at least―Rayla went to her bed, hesitating for only a moment before she got on her hands and knees and crawled underneath.

Her headache protested at all the movement, but she did her best to ignore it. It wasn’t like she could just leave all this stuff out for Luna to find; that would lead to more questions than answers. It may not have been the most original hiding spot, but it was the only one that she had been able to think of of at the beginning of the semester.

Her “cache,” as Runaan would have called it, was composed of a few small boxes attached the the bottom of her bunk. There were medicinal herbs, bandages, bottles of stale water, and other objects that her adoptive father had _insisted_ she place somewhere in her dorm room, “just in case of an emergency.” He would have denied that he was over-protective, but the adjective fit him perfectly.

Rayla sighed as she tried to remember where she had put her stache of _arabin_ leaves, her head pounding all the while. She found them next to her box of bandages, and crawled from under her bed, wincing at the bitter taste of the leaves in her mouth. If nothing else, the plant would help wake her up, and maybe even relieve some of her headache.

When she exited the room, rubbing her eyes, she found several other Moonshadow elves shambling around like drunks. She ignored them, heading for the small kitchenette that was housed on the first floor. Hopefully, _someone_ had left some food behind. She didn’t fancy the idea of dipping any further into her emergency stash than she had to.

The first floor was completely empty, which made sense, considering that classes were still technically a thing today. Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to explain why she had missed class to her professor, who just so happened to also be a Moonshadow elf.

Fortunately, the other Moonshadow elves that were wandering about didn’t seem to possess their full mental capacities yet, for the small pantry on the first floor was almost completely stocked.

She wasted no time in grabbing as much food as she could, making sure to stock up on moonberries and starfruit, the two most nutritious fruits that Xadia had to offer. She only felt slightly guilty when she passed several Moonshadow elves, who immediately flocked to the first floor, muttering to themselves as they did.

“…feel like a banther’s backside…”

“Is my foot even still attached to my body?”

“I think that mute Skywing elf got me sick. Good thing he hasn’t left his room all day…”

Rayla froze as she heard that last sentence, all of her suspicion coming back to her in a moment.

Callum wasn’t a Moonshadow elf. Why hadn’t he left his room at all?

It was entirely possible that he actually was sick, as he had claimed the day before, but her gut told her that wasn’t the case. Perhaps that human he had with him was acting up, or something of the sort.

Ugh. She wished she had some sort of _evidence._ She was too weak to go charging into his room, demanding answers―not that she was likely to do that in the first place. And since the incident with the jelly handprints, she hadn’t discovered anything else―nothing _concrete_ , at least―that would prove that he was up to something. She didn’t even know that.

Rayla was so lost in thought that she nearly walked right past her own room. She sighed, digging in her pocket for her key, which was a struggle, considering all the food she was carrying. When she finally managed it, it was only to nearly trip as she staggered inside the room. The door slammed shut behind her, making her head pound and causing Luna to mutter a few curses in her general direction before passing out again.

The _arabin_ leaves seemed to be kicking in. Good. Even so, Rayla found her eyes drooping as she sat on her bed and began to munch on the berries she’d scavenged. She forced herself to stay awake. She needed to get her strength up for the next day, otherwise she would be even more miserable.

When she had finished eating (leaving a small amount of food for her roommate nearby), Rayla threw herself into her homework, intent on keeping herself awake long enough for her to grab another bite to eat before she succumbed to unconsciousness once more.

At least, that _was_ the plan, before she jerked awake from a strange dream about a group of fruits chasing her.

It was _really_ a good thing Runaan wasn’t around to see the terrible control she had over her sleep abilities right now. She’d never hear the end of it.

Rayla sighed and stretched her arms over her head. On the bright side, her brain wasn’t trying to beat its way out of her skull anymore. On the downside, judging by the smallest sliver of light she could see out her window, she had woken up in the middle of the night.

Wonderful. She yawned and got out of bed, intent on fully closing the curtains, which must have blown open in the draft that came from the window from time to time. As she yawned, her eyes brushed over the grass a story below her. The moon was once again out, though it would be just a sliver now, and it provided just enough illumination for her to see a little better in the night.

She saw a shadow.

Her hands just barely flinched toward her back, but as soon as she blinked, the shadow on the roof went away. Had she imagined it?

No. Her gut told her otherwise. But what was someone doing on top of the building? Was there even a way to get up there without climbing up from outside?

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as Runaan had taught her to do when she needed to think something through carefully. It couldn’t be a Moonshadow elf; they were all too weak to climb up from the outside, and even if there were a way up from the inside…

What was it that Kale had said? Something about how every building had a trapdoor, and it was just a matter of finding it…?

She was already grabbing her green cloak and headed for the door, but she hesitated for just a moment before checking to make sure Luna was still asleep. Then Rayla ducked underneath her bed and wrapped her hands around two familiar weights.

Rayla tucked her swords into the shirt at her back, the steel shapes fitting snugly into the hooks built into the harness she always wore under her clothes. Whatever the grand mystery of Xadia Academy was, it ended tonight.

She subconsciously flipped her hood up as she softly closed the door to her dorm behind her and made her way to the stairs leading to the third floor. If there was a trapdoor that led to the roof, it would be there.

The third floor was deathly silent, and out of instinct, she suppressed her footsteps. If she were a trapdoor, where would she be? She already had some idea.

It took her some wandering around to find the room she was looking for, but eventually she found it. It seemed to fit the stereotype assigned to it; a corner room, where plenty of cobwebs were sure to gather. The door seemed more shrouded in shadow than the rest―which was ridiculous, as there was hardly any light in the hallway to begin with.

Rayla considered the door to room 313 carefully. The administration of the college had probably spread the rumors of the room being haunted itself, to discourage students from finding the trapdoor inside. A rooftop hiding spot would be the perfect spot for more…frowned upon activities.

She cleared her throat at that thought and contemplated how to best break in. If she simply kicked the door in―which she wasn’t even sure that she had the strength to do―everyone in the nearby rooms would be alerted and would be sure to come investigate. She didn’t have anything she could attempt to pick the lock with, either.

So how had the person on the roof gotten inside?

Rayla chewed on her lip in thought. The fingers of her left hand tapped on the base of one of her dual swords. What would Runaan do?

A smile split across her lips. She had it.

Glancing around to make sure that no one else was present, Rayla took her right sword out and flicked it into its standard position. Carefully, she slipped the blade in the crack between the door and the frame, right underneath the bolt. Looking around one more time just in case, Rayla flicked her sword into the hook position.

There was a soft _snap_ as the inferior metal of the lock’s bolt gave way to that of her sword as the momentum of the switching blade hit it The door swung open silently.

Rayla grinned. Runaan would have been proud of that one.

She stepped inside the supposedly haunted room, closing the door softly behind her. Fortunately, she hadn’t broken the lock, so the door stayed shut. The inside of the room was bare, without any bunk beds or furniture of any kind. There wasn’t any sort of window, either. The only thing the room possessed was a significant number of cobwebs and a wooden ladder, leading up to a small trapdoor in the ceiling.

Rayla grabbed her other sword, but kept both blades tucked away as she gripped their bases. She wasn’t sure if the person on the roof had anything to do with the human that Callum was hiding, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. Taking a deep breath, she climbed up the ladder and opened the trapdoor just slightly, peeking out onto the roof.

So she’d been right. There was someone up there! She could just barely make out the boots of someone as they laid face-down on the roof, as if lounging. Slowly, Rayla stepped up on the ladder, the trapdoor pushed up by the top of her head.

Whoever it was, they clearly didn’t have much of a sense for personal hygiene. The roof was covered in who-knows-what―probably a metric ton of bird droppings, along with grit and dust blown in by the wind, yet this person was lying face-down as if nothing was wrong!

To make matters worse, he didn’t seem to be wearing any sort of shirt. A small pile of clothing sat not two feet from Rayla’s head; a red and gold tunic, along with a blue coat.

Her eyes narrowed as she squinted at his back. The moonlight was shining directly on his pale skin, making it seem paper-white. He was scrawny, though he seemed to be just a bit wiry. A head of messy brown hair obscured her view of his face, which she hardly even noticed as she stared at the mark on his shoulder blades.

What was this boy doing with the tattoo of a moon rune on his back?

Rayla squinted at the tattoo, trying to line up the symbol with what she remembered from her classes. It appeared to be four crescent moons encircling a full one, all of it encased in a thick, black circle. The crude image of a pair of wings surrounded the circle, oddly enough. It could have just been her imagination, but the ink in his skin seemed to flash silver every few seconds, the same color as the faint moonlight shining down on him.

Now she recognized the symbol; the moon symbols correlated with the draconic word _mystica_ ―what the wings stood for, she had no idea. That’s exactly what Lujanne had taught them for…

For an illusion spell.

Rayla’s foot slipped on the rung of the ladder below her, making the whole contraption creak as she grabbed the edges of the trapdoor to maintain her balance. She breathed a curse as the boy scrambled to his feet in his alarm, holding his pencil in front of him like a weapon.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Rayla’s mouth dropped open as she took in the five fingers, the rounded ears, the lack of any facial markings or horns. She was sure that the surprise in his bright green eyes mirrored her own.

Callum was a human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of all people, my FATHER taught me how to swear in sign language in a random conversation. Talk about that for timing, huh? Of course, the version he was taught was one from the 80s, but give me a break...
> 
> Also, I REALLY would have liked to stretch the mystery out a bit more, but for the sake of the plot (and my own sanity), we're at that part already. And, just a warning, the next chapter is sort of short, for dramatic purposes? (*ahem* I'm the writer and can do what I want, so there.)
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments! <3


	5. Secrets and Blood Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He closed his eyes, praying it would be quick."

Callum scrambled away from her as she climbed up the ladder, carrying two large pieces of metal which she quickly switched to actual  _ swords. _

_ No, no, no, _ his panicked brain managed to think as he backed up against the edge of the roof. This couldn’t be happening! He’d been so  _ careful! _

Rayla approached carefully, as if she were cornering a wounded banther. Her face was twisted into a mixture of anger and shock.

“You  _ lied  _ to me!” she exclaimed, swords glinting dangerously in the moonlight. Where had she even  _ gotten _ those?

_ “Rayla, please, it’s not what you think―” _ he started to sign, but she was hardly listening as she pointed one of her twin swords at him.

“You’re a  _ human _ ,” Rayla declared, and Callum desperately hoped that no one was nearby to hear her. “You’re not supposed to be here! If the other elves knew―”

_ “They’d kill me,”  _ he signed as quickly as he could.  _ “Yes, I know! But I don’t mean any harm! I only want _ ―”

“To use your dark magic here!” she interrupted, violet eyes narrowed in rage. “Everyone knows that humans can’t do primal magic―there could only be one reason that you’re here! You want more ingredients for your…your crime against nature!”

_ “Then how do I have this tattoo on my back?” _ Callum pointed at his bare back. It was cold on the roof, but that wasn’t the reason he was shaking.  _ “The only way I could get this is if another elf put it on me. Why would they do that if I were practicing dark magic?” _

That seemed to give her pause, and in her moment of hesitation, he used the chance to get away from the edge of the roof. The wind was beginning to howl, and the last thing he needed was a powerful gust to blow him off the edge. Although, falling from this height might be more merciful than being skewered on those wicked-looking swords…

Rayla kept her swords pointed at him as he scooted away from the edge, just a hair toward her. She continued to glare at him, though she seemed to be unsure of what to do. That was good. Maybe Callum could still talk his way out of this.

_ “If I wanted to hurt the elves, I would have,”  _ he told her.

That only seemed to make matters worse. Her back became rigid, her eyes full of even more of that simmering anger. 

“That’s just what a human spy would say!” she firmly asserted, her grip on her swords tightening. “For all I know, you  _ forced _ an elf to give you that tattoo! Humans have been hurting Xadia for centuries. Why would they stop now?”

_ Oh, come on! _ Callum wanted to shout into the sky. Why did the past  _ always  _ have to complicate things? He didn’t hold any grudges against the elves, and he  _ certainly _ didn’t want to hurt anyone at the college.

_ “The war is over!” _ Callum signed desperately at her, trying to break through to the reasonable girl he knew was in there. Even if she  _ was  _ pointing swords at him. 

Rayla’s expression remained the same. He tried again, the wind scraping ruthlessly at his bare skin as he struggled for words. 

_ “How does killing me solve anything?” _ he demanded.  _ “I  _ know  _ you, Rayla. I know you’re not a killer.” _

_ That _ got a reaction out of her. There was a flash of something in her eyes that he couldn’t interpret, and her fingers loosened on her swords for just a moment before that glint of determination returned to her.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Rayla said in a low, dangerous voice, stepping toward him with her swords raised. Callum stepped back too, knowing the edge of the building was just a foot or so behind him. He closed his eyes, praying it would be quick.

“Wait!” a voice suddenly exclaimed.

Callum’s eyes snapped open to find a third, smaller figure climbing out of the trapdoor, carrying a glow toad that was glowing purple.

_ “Ezran, get out of here!”  _ Callum signed at him, feeling a spike of icy terror drill itself into his heart. His own death he might be able to abide. Not Ezran’s. Would Rayla really kill a child, even if he was a human?

Ezran ignored him, stepping in front of Callum with a determined―if frightened―look on his face.

“Rayla, you can’t kill Callum!” he exclaimed, voice as desperate as Callum felt. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

Her hesitation was all too obvious. Rayla’s eyes flicked between Callum and Ezran, clearly unsure of what to do.

Callum took the chance to step in front of Ezran, putting a protective arm out in front of him. He liked Rayla, but if anyone threatened his brother, he would protect Ezran at all costs.

“Why are you here?” she eventually sighed. Her shoulders slumped, but she still held the swords out in front of her tensely. Clearly, she had experience using them.

_ “It’s a long story,” _ Callum signed back at her, feeling his fingers trembling. Everything had gotten  _ really  _ complicated  _ really _ fast.

“Then summarize!” Rayla barked, eyes narrowing.

Ezran was already speaking.

“We’re from Katolis!” he exclaimed, peeking out from behind Callum. “Our dad was the president of the university, but…but something happened…” His voice cracked loudly, and Callum saw Rayla’s eyes soften just slightly before Ezran continued.

“He died. Someone killed him, and blamed it on Callum, and we had to run.”

Rayla’s brow was furrowed. She met Callum’s eyes as she said, “Viren?”

Callum looked away, but he nodded. That wound was still painfully fresh, and its addition to the already perilous situation was not helping him stay very calm.

Rayla was silent for a moment, the grip she had on her swords loosening and tightening as she thought.

“How do I know that you’re not practicing dark magic?” she eventually said.

“Oh!” Ezran said before Callum could stop him. “That’s easy! Callum can do sky magic!”

Rayla’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Callum tensed, adjusting his position so that he was even more firmly between her and Ezran.

“That’s ridiculous,” she stated very matter-of-factly. “Humans can’t do primal magic.”

“Callum can!” Ezran insisted, ignoring his brother’s attempts to protect him and peering at the elf. “Go on, Callum, show her!”

Callum winced as Rayla’s gaze snapped to him. 

_ “I don’t have a voice anymore, Ezran,”  _ he carefully signed.  _ “It wouldn’t work.” _

“But you should still be able to trace the symbol, can’t you?” Rayla interjected, focused firmly on him. “That’s proof.”

Oh, Callum didn’t like this. He’d once traced the  _ fulminis  _ spell without knowing the draconic word needed to activate it, and had almost burned down a building. So that one was out of the question. But perhaps there was another spell that was less dangerous…

_ “All right,” _ he reluctantly agreed.  _ “But you may want to take a step back, just in case.” _

Rayla sent him a skeptical look, then took three small steps back, her swords still carefully raised. Callum prayed that this would work, and that no one would get hurt if it did.

Taking a deep breath, Callum lifted his right index finger and reached out, feeling the wind around them. It had been some time since he had actually attempted to perform any kind of spell, and with the pressure of an elf pointing two swords at him, he found his finger trembling violently.

But the magic came as easily to him as it ever had, and the tip of his finger glowed with a soft green light after a moment. Breathing out, he traced the symbol for  _ aspiro _ in the air with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent hours obsessively practicing.

Then he finished, and the air seemed to quiver, waiting for a command. But it was a command that he couldn’t give―might never be  _ able  _ to give. Not anymore.

After a moment of complete and utter silence, Callum waved his hand through the glowing symbol, and it disappeared. He tried to ignore his own bitter disappointment, but when he looked back at Rayla, he was quickly reminded of the danger he and Ezran were still in.

However, she lowered her swords after a moment, not looking at either of them.

“I need time to think,” she said, then disappeared back inside the building.

Callum let out a massive breath that he didn’t know he had been holding, feeling all of his tense muscles relax at once.

“Well, she didn’t kill us!” Ezran exclaimed in his positive little voice. Then, more quietly, “Does that mean we’re safe?”

Callum looked down at his little brother, then over to where Rayla had stood mere moments before, swords aimed for his throat. He answered honestly.

_ “I don’t know.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	6. The Princes of Katolis Academy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Grief, it seemed, never really went away."

The librarian gave Rayla a strange look when she stalked into the building the minute it opened, but she did her best to ignore him. She was there for a very specific purpose, and she would not be deterred until she came away with some answers.

Her head was still spinning with the events of the last few hours. She’d fled from the rooftop feeling angry and confused, and frustrated by her mishmash of emotions.

Callum was a  _ human. _ Beyond that, he was a human who had connected to the  _ sky arcanum. _ That was…practically unheard of. No, scratch that―it  _ was _ unheard of. She’d always believed that the humans perverted nature by practicing their dark magic, but this recent development proved that it went deeper than that. The humans  _ were _ capable of primal magic, but they took the easy way out instead, choosing to harm magical creatures in their desperation to perform magic.

Yet Callum hadn’t taken that easy way out. That proved that he was different, didn’t it?

Rayla honestly didn’t know. And that was why she was in the library; she needed to know if he was telling the truth about what had led him to Xadia Academy. Only then could she make her decision about whether or not to turn him in to the authorities. She certainly didn’t trust him enough to simply take his word at face value―only enough to make her pause and reconsider, apparently.

She paused as she passed the librarian, then turned back to him. He was a Moonshadow elf, like her, and looked none too pleased about being up early in the morning so soon after dealing with a new moon.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Do you have any news articles from the human nations?”

The Moonshadow elf peered at her suspiciously from behind his spectacles. “What on earth would you need those for?”

Rayla only hesitated for a moment before she answered. “It’s a project for my History of Magic class.”

That seemed to be an acceptable answer, for the elf relaxed after a moment. “They’re this way. Follow me.”

The elf walked off, and Rayla had no choice but to follow. He led her to a section in the back of the library, where the shelves were covered in a thick layer of dust. Clearly, not many students visited this particular section. The shelves were lined not with books, but with small wooden boxes. A few had been left open, allowing Rayla to glimpse the pieces of parchment within.

“I’m not a fan of humans, but I will admit that their method of spreading information is quite effective,” the librarian commented, gesturing to the shelves around them. “If nothing else, it makes it easier for us to gather information about them.”

Rayla remained silent. She knew that the human kingdoms had gotten into the habit of spreading information through pamphlets and flyers, especially when that information was important. That was what she was counting on; hopefully, the pamphlets that the elves collected from the human kingdoms would provide some insight as to whether or not Callum’s story was the truth.

“That section is newer, but I assume that your teacher will want you to look up older news, from centuries past,” the librarian continued, drawing Rayla’s attention back to the present. “That’s over here.” He gestured to the very end of the line of shelves, where the boxes were clearly older and covered in cobwebs. Then he shot her a kind smile. “I’ll leave you to it. Just…please, be careful with what you find. Some of it is very fragile.”

He nodded at her and walked off, returning to his post at the front of the library. As soon as he was gone, Rayla glanced around to make sure no one else was present before striding over to the section of newer parchment. 

She sighed as she looked at the large assortment of boxes. This was going to take a while.

**< |>**

Callum didn’t get any sleep. He didn’t even try. His stomach was curdling with worry, as if he had downed a whole bottle of expired milk.

He spent the whole night pacing around his dorm room, trying to think of a course of action. It all revolved around one question:  _ would Rayla tell anyone? _

There wasn’t an easy answer. On the one hand, she hadn't killed him when she had the chance. On the other, she didn’t explicitly say that she wasn’t going to rat him and Ezran out to the authorities. There was still so much bias surrounding elves and humans that it was impossible to tell what she would do, regardless of what Callum thought he knew about her personality.

Eventually, after Ezran and Bait had somehow managed to doze off, Callum sat on the edge of his bed and began to flip through his sketchbook, only half focused on the pages in front of him. There were dozens of sketches inside, the most recent ones being of all the amazing things he had seen in Xadia. He flipped through several pages of nature and animals, eyes skimming over the shading and sketch lines without paying much attention to them. He often did this when he was upset; reviewing his work was a good way to get his mind off of things.

However, he quickly found himself flipping through even older drawings, ones from months before. The foliage in his pages took on more familiar qualities, and he didn’t mind―that is, until he reached one sketch in particular.

It was a copy of a family portrait, one that had hung in his step-father’s office proudly. Callum had copied it down one day when he was bored, and it didn’t look half-bad. It was something that had been painted when Callum was only four or five, and he vaguely remembered being forced to stand still for several hours in order for the painter to do his job. Harrow had been the tallest in the picture, his red and golden robes standing out against the light wood of the office’s background. Ezran had been just a baby then, and he was swaddled in blankets, his face barely visible, though it was clear he resembled Harrow. Callum’s mother had held him proudly, a smile on her face. 

Callum liked to think that he took after her. He shared the same pale skin and dark hair, and though her eyes were hazel and his were green, he had often been told that they were very nearly the same―perhaps it just had something to do with the way the artist had painted their eyes. 

Callum froze when he saw the copied portrait. The last time he had seen this, he’d been in his father’s office, back before everything had gone so horribly wrong…

_ Callum snatched one of the extra charcoal pencils off of his stepfather's desk with a sigh. His usual pencil was little more than a nub now, and he knew that Harrow usually left a spare in his office, though he hardly ever used it. _

_ It was the echo of angry voices in the hallway outside that tipped him off. Callum wasn’t even technically supposed to be there; he was supposed to be babysitting Ezran as he started a bit of sword training. But Ezran was capable of taking care of himself, and Soren was the one teaching him, so he was in good hands. Besides, the call to sketch something had just been too great. _

_ Callum looked around the office, searching for a hiding place as the voices got closer. Those were not happy voices. How would Harrow react if he found Callum there?  _

_ He gave up and dove under his stepfather’s desk right as the door flew open and the words of the two men arguing became clear. _

_ “…an absurd idea, Viren!” Harrow exclaimed in an angry voice. Under the desk, Callum winced. He’d never heard Harrow’s voice shaded with such rage. _

_ “It’s a…creative solution!” Viren’s voice asserted, just as furious.  _

_ “The elves are not a problem that requires one of your ‘creative solutions!’” Harrow replied, his footsteps striding dangerously close to Callum’s hiding place. It was fortunate that there was a wooden slat at the back of the desk to hide him, otherwise he would have been discovered for sure. _

_ Callum gave himself a moment to grin. He was eighteen, and here he was hiding underneath his stepfather’s desk like he was ten years younger. He could barely fit at all! _

_ “How can you say that?!” Viren demanded, his footsteps angrily stepping closer as well. “The elves have been a scourge on the planet for years! If  _ your _ ancestors hadn’t signed that peace treaty a hundred years ago―” _

_ “Then both sides would have wiped each other out!” Harrow interrupted. “The elves now have done nothing to wrong us. I can’t let you go through with something like that. Think of the consequences if something goes wrong!” _

_ “Think of the benefits if something goes  _ right!” _ A nearby thud signaled that Viren had slammed his fist into one of the walls for emphasis. _

_ “That is  _ exactly _ what I’m thinking of!” Harrow hesitated a moment, then sighed. “Viren, this is extreme, even for you. What’s changed?” _

_ Viren paused for a moment, and Callum held his breath. He had no idea what was going on above him, but he was certain that he didn’t want to know―and that it had been a good idea to hide. _

_ “Nothing has changed!” Viren suddenly spat. “The elves are as treacherous as they’ve ever been. You of all people should know that, Harrow!” _

_ Callum had to cover his mouth to stop himself from gasping. Viren had just shoved a spear into an old wound, for both Callum and his step-father. _

_ “How  _ dare  _ you,” Harrow said, his voice dangerously even. “You have  _ no  _ right to bring that up, especially not like this. Your project is denied, Viren. You should consider yourself lucky that I haven’t turned you into the authorities.” _

_ There was a pregnant pause for several long moments, and Callum did his best not squirm, clenching his pencil in his hand tightly. The tension in the room was thick, so much so that even hidden under the desk like he was, he could sense it. _

_ “You’re a fool, Harrow.” _

_ The words were spoken with so much venom that Callum actually flinched, nearly knocking his head into the top of the desk. Thankfully, neither man seemed to have heard it. _

_ “And you’ve lost your mind, Viren. Did you honestly think that the president of your university would approve this, regardless of whether or not he was your friend?” _

_ Another pause. A lengthy sigh. Then: _

_ “Then I suppose I will do what must be done.” _

_ And that was when all hell broke loose. _

Callum snapped out of the memory with a pained gasp, his chest aching something fierce. That had  _ not  _ been his intent when he’d begun to flip through his sketchbook. He had meant to  _ distract _ himself from those memories, not invite them in!

He laid back on his bed, sketchbook splayed across his chest. 

It was going to be a long day.

**< |>**

Rayla bit out a curse as she gave herself her tenth papercut of the hour. Seriously! How much information did these clueless humans  _ need? _ There were hundreds of pamphlets and documents to sort through, and none of them had what she needed. So far, the only mention of anything involving Katolis University was their fencing team meets. Great for them, but certainly not helpful for her. 

She groaned and leaned back against one of the shelves she sat in front of. There was a veritable maelstrom of papers gathered around her on the floor, and her eyes were hurting from all the reading. She would never understand how people made a  _ career _ out of all this reading. Didn’t they get bored?

She groaned again, feeling yet another headache bloom in her skull. To make matters worse, the halfway bell rang loudly across campus, signaling that it was time for lunch. She jumped when she heard it, not anticipating that it was that time of morning―er, afternoon―already. Her shoulders jerked into the shelf behind her, shaking the whole wooden structure and causing a small wooden box of more pamphlets to come crashing down on her head.

_ Smack! _

Rayla cursed as papers spilled out around her, and her headache intensified as the wooden box bounced off of her horns and onto the floor.

“Great,” she muttered. “Just…great.” She sighed and reached up to remove a piece of parchment that had caught on her horns.

She was halfway through shoving that particular piece of paper back in the box when she caught several words written on the page:  _ Katolis, President,  _ and  _ princes. _

Rayla froze, then snatched the paper back, bringing it an inch from her face to read the information there hungrily.

_ In a sad turn of events, _ she read,  _ the President of Katolis University has been found dead. _

_ After witnessing several flashes of light and loud explosions, members of the college’s admissions department found President Harrow dead in his office, slain by a user of dark magic. They also found the unconscious bodies of two of Harrow’s closest friends and family members: Lord Viren, the Vice President of the university and leading expert on dark magic, and Callum―one of Harrow’s sons, who have both been labeled the “Princes of Katolis University.” _

_ Both were escorted to the university’s on-site hospital, both apparently harmed by the same dark magic that had killed President Harrow. However, both woke up shortly after.  _

_ No one can be sure exactly what happened after that, but an eyewitness accounts seeing Lord Viren accuse Callum of killing his own father. In a strange twist, Callum attacked Viren with magic―presumably with the same magic he used to kill Harrow―and escaped from the hospital. Not long after, both he and his younger brother Ezran disappeared, and have not been heard from since. _

_ If you have any information regarding the disappearance of “princes” Callum and Ezran, please contact the Katolis authorities or inform Lord Viren at Katolis University. _

Rayla frowned as she read the small snippet of news, then read it again. Whoever had written the article very explicitly suggested that Callum had been the one to kill his own father. She recalled the way he’d very clearly trembled when she had threatened him on the rooftop. It could have been the wind, but cold-blooded killers didn’t tend to show weakness like that.

It just didn’t make sense. The article also said that this “Lord Viren” was a master of dark magic, and that Harrow had been killed by  _ dark magic. _ And Callum didn’t seem the type to just up and  _ kill _ someone, especially his own father. And the way he had purposefully put himself between Rayla and his brother didn’t match the personality of a killer.

She groaned again, closing her eyes. She tried to imagine Callum doing  _ anything _ hostile, and she just…couldn’t. Regardless of whether or not he was human, she just couldn’t see him as a killer. He was too…light-hearted for that. Besides, she had plenty of experience with knowing killers, didn’t she?

That was a dangerous thought. She was back in a memory before she had a chance to deny her mind its grief. She remembered the tang of salt in her nose, the sand between her toes, the blood mingling with water…and the  _ smell _ …

Rayla bit her tongue, hard, to force herself away from that line of thought before it utterly consumed her. She'd faced her anger; she'd given up its control over her. But grief, it seemed, never really went away.

In any event, she had her answer. Callum was telling the truth―or at least, part of it. Regardless, she wanted to do more research. The phrase  _ know thy enemy  _ was spinning through her head; although now it might be more accurate to say  _ know thy friend. _

**< |>**

Ezran woke to find Callum packing things furiously into his suitcase, his face scrunched up in worry.

Ezran knew that look. That was the “I had a bad idea and now I regret it” look. Callum seemed to be wearing it quite frequently lately, but judging from the intense way he was packing his suitcase, this one was caused by something a little more serious.

“Callum?” Ezran asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The curtains in the room were open, and the sun was high in the sky. He had slept past noon?

Callum looked over, his eyes bloodshot. But his expression of worry softened when he saw Ezran clutching Bait.

_ “Hey, Ez,” _ he signed.

“Callum, what time is it?” Ezran asked, and in his arms, Bait croaked and turned blue.

_ “About three in the afternoon, why?” _ Callum sat on the edge of Ezran’s bed. His face had stopped looking as worried, but Ezran knew that Callum was doing his best to hide his anxiety.

“You still look like a human.”

Callum sighed. It was true; the illusion of a Skywing elf that Ezran had gotten so used to seeing on his brother’s features wasn’t present, despite the fact that he had gone up to the roof before to recharge it after the new moon; there must not have been enough energy from the moon the night before to sufficiently recharge the enchantment. In some ways, it was comforting. Ezran missed seeing Callum’s normal face. It was the face that he had grown up with, after all.

_ “I know. I had to skip class again today. Hopefully nobody noticed. That would…be bad.” _

Callum didn’t have his voice anymore, but Ezran could still read the tone of his words clear enough. The way that his older brother swallowed and looked away as if in pain did little to hide it.

He wasn’t just worried. He was  _ terrified. _

It was a sobering thought. Ezran was the baby of the family (even Bait was older than him!), and as such, he knew that Callum usually tried to put on a brave face for him. The fact that Ezran was able to read the depths of his fear was not a good sign.

Ezran hugged Bait closer as the glow toad turned purple. “What are we going to do, Callum? Do you think she’ll tell anyone?”

Callum looked down at him and smiled a small little smile.  _ “We’ll be all right, Ez.”  _ He rubbed the top of his hair affectionately, and for once, Ezran let him.

“Do you want me to pack my stuff?” he asked after a moment.

Callum frowned, but he nodded.  _ “Just in case.” _

Ezran nodded too. “Just in case.”

**< |>**

They spent the next three hours in a flurry of packing and making sure that everything was ready to go in the event that they needed to make a quick escape. Callum even made sure to pack some of his textbooks―some of them had runes on their pages that might be helpful later on.

Callum did his best to hide it, but the mad scramble to pack their things reminded him of the time they’d left Katolis. He managed to push the memories away, but he still could hear the crack and crunch of branches around him, the pounding of their feet on the ground, the full moon shining overhead…

He was so tense that he nearly blew up the whole dorm room when it happened. He was right in the middle of shoving one of his spare shirts into his backpack when a new voice rang through the dorm.

“You don't need to do that.”

Callum jumped and turned, finger glowing green as he prepared to trace the  _ fulminis _ spell. Rayla was crouched in the open window like nothing was wrong, as if she hadn't threatened him with  _ swords  _ the night before. She sent him one of those smug looks that she was so fond of. As she climbed inside, Callum took a worried step back, toward Ezran. Why was she here? Had she told someone? Were the Xadian authorities coming to arrest them at that very moment?

"Relax, sad prince," she said, straightening. She wrinkled her nose at the room's messiness, eying one of the pairs of underpants that Callum had left outside his suitcase in his haste.

He was too anxious to be embarrassed. _ “Why did you come back?” _ he signed at her.

She looked away, then back at him. She clutched her arm with her other hand, looking almost nervous.

“I know what you're feeling,” she eventually said, not looking him in the eye. “But I…still have some questions.”

“You’re not going to kill us?” Ezran asked, once again peering out from around Callum. 

Rayla shook her head, her eyes full of regret as she looked at the thirteen-year-old. She lifted her empty hands. “No swords.”

Callum allowed himself to relax a bit. He didn’t sense any danger or anger from her, not like the night before, but that didn’t mean that he was going to leave his guard down. Not when Ezran’s life was at stake.

_ “What sort of questions do you have?” _

Rayla frowned, then looked out the window carefully. It was dark outside, which was probably why she had risked climbing up a three-story building to talk to them―which Callum had to admit was  _ impressive. _ Just who  _ was  _ this girl?

She closed the window before she began to speak.

“Why did you run away to Xadia? You could have gone anywhere. Why here?”

Ah.  _ That _ question. Callum looked behind him, at Ezran. Eventually, he sighed.

_ “You might want to take a seat,”  _ he signed at Rayla, gesturing to his bed for her to do just that. She hesitated for a moment, eyeing him suspiciously, before she gave in and sat on the edge of his cot.

Three months ago, Callum would have turned into a blushing mess at the very  _ thought _ of a girl in his dorm room, much less one sitting on his bed. He still had to clear his throat, but he was too focused on making peace to do much of anything else as he and Ezran sat on the other cot.

_ “Our mom was a friend of the elves,”  _ Callum started, not exactly sure how to explain.  _ “When we were little, she used to take us to the elven cities on the border.” _

He smiled as he remembered that. Ezran was almost too young to remember―if he did, it was likely only bits and flashes―but Callum remembered most of it. He remembered the strange looks that he and his mother had gotten as they walked to the market from elves who didn’t know them. But his mother had a way of enchanting people (that was what Harrow had always said), and the elves that knew her welcomed Callum and his brother just as warmly as they did her.

_ “Our mother was friends with one elf in particular, a moon mage who was very good at what she did.” _

Before Callum could continue, Rayla crossed her arms. “Professor Lujanne, right?”

His jaw dropped. How―?

She chuckled at his shock. “I heard you two talking after class the other day. And I found this.” 

She dug into her pocket and produced a small piece of parchment. Carefully, without getting too close to him, she handed it over. Callum and Ezran stared at it together.

What had appeared at first to be a small piece of parchment was actually the cloth canvas of a small portrait, about the size of Callum’s hand. It appeared to be a copy of a larger painting, much like some of the sketches in his notebook. The two people pictured were very familiar to Callum; the first was his mother, dressed in fine robes and shaking the hand of another woman―an elf, one who was very clearly Lujanne.

_ “How did you―?” _ Callum started to ask, but Rayla was already ahead of him.

“The library has lots of interesting things there. I found this hanging on one of the walls in the very back, in the history section. It was a good thing, too; it had labels and everything. I doubt Lujanne wanted people to know that she was friends with the mother of two humans who just went missing in Katolis. At least, not right now.”

If possible, Callum’s jaw dropped even further.  _ “You  _ stole  _ from the  _ library _?” _ he signed incredulously, hoping that his hands could put the appropriate emphasis on the right words.

Rayla leaned back and cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Yeah, I did. And you snuck into a foreign country and impersonated an elf at a magical college. Which one seems more serious to you?”

Ezran snickered. Callum shushed him, feeling his cheeks flush with heat. They’d gone from serious matters to teasing him incredibly quickly, and he didn’t much appreciate it.

Rayla seemed to realize that too, and soon returned to the task at hand. By now, she was sitting cross-legged on his bed in her concentration, not even realizing her position. Well, at least she looked comfortable. That was good―that was safe.

“So you ran to Xadia because your mum’s friend was there,” she recounted, eyes looking up toward the ceiling as she thought. “And it made sense to have her disguise you as an elf if you were in Xadia. But you  _ still _ haven’t answered why you’re here, at the university.”

_ “I’m getting there!” _ Honestly, how impatient could she be? 

Rayla rolled her eyes and made a face. “Go on, then.”

Callum sighed and did just that, though a bit sheepishly. This part of his half-thought out plan sounded crazy, even to him. But it was all that he had.

_ “Viren is a powerful dark mage,” _ Callum carefully signed, doing his best to control the shake that came to his hands as he spelled out the name of his step-father’s killer.  _ “If he figures out where we are, he’ll raise―” _ He glanced down at Ezran.  _ “―heck trying to get to us. To me. I need to learn to protect us.” _

That wasn’t the whole of it, but it was all he was comfortable sharing with Rayla. It was nice that she didn’t seem to possess the same violent intent of the night before, and that she hadn’t turned them in―or so she  _ said _ ―but that didn’t change the fact that Callum  _ didn’t _ know anything about her. After the little stunt she’d pulled on the roof with the swords and the way she had climbed all the way up to the third floor from the outside of the building, that much was painfully apparent.

This time, it was Rayla’s turn to sigh. She rubbed her face, exhaustion evident in her posture. No doubt she hadn’t been able to sleep, either. At least they had that in common.

“All right,” she said eventually. “And how are you planning on doing that?”

Callum hesitated, but Ezran spoke before he had a chance to sign anything.

“So does this mean you're not going to tell anyone about us?” Ezran asked her, hugging Bait close to his body as he stared hopefully at the Moonshadow elf.

“I'm going to do you one better,” she replied, still looking a bit hesitant. But after a moment, she sent the younger boy a smile.

“How?” Callum signed, still not entirely convinced.

Rayla sighed and crossed her arms.

“I'm going to help you.”

**< |>**

He watched the events unfold in the enchanted waters of the bowl before him with a curious eye. There more people involved than originally believed. Breaking his control over the glowing liquid in the bowl, he reached for the ingredients needed for another spell, his mind fastidiously turning over the details as he smiled.

“Fascinating,” Aaravos said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 👏 don't 👏 like 👏 this 👏 chapter 👏 but 👏 for 👏the 👏sake 👏of 👏plot 👏here 👏it 👏is.
> 
> I promise, Rayla (and Callum's!) motivations will become clearer in later chapters.
> 
> *ahem* If we don't get a release date for S3 soon I may die.


	7. The Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How may I serve you?"

The next day, everything was almost back to normal. Almost.

Callum and Rayla seemed to be on friendly terms once again, though every once in a while during lunch, their eyes would meet knowingly.

It was strange, Callum reflected. He could tell that they had yet to fully trust each other, but there seemed to be some sort of understanding between them. She would keep his secret and “help” him, whatever that meant. He understood  _ what _ ; he did not understand  _ why _ or  _ how _ . Perhaps that would become more clear later on, if it ever did.

Callum was busy thinking about that as he walked to the Crescent Center for his lesson with Professor Aaravos―that is, before Rayla herself appeared and shoved a heavy book into his hands.

He grunted as he caught it, all the air knocked out of his lungs. When he recovered, he sent her a puzzled look.

“Look at the cover,” Rayla urged him, adjusting her pack’s straps on her shoulders. 

Callum looked. The cover was decorated with fascinating flowers and leaves, none of which he recognized, which probably meant that they were all from Xadia. The title of the book was on the spine, and it read,  _ Encyclopedia of Foliage and Flowers in Xadia. _

“You’re sort of clueless,” Rayla continued, falling into step with him as he resumed his walk. She lowered her voice as they passed a group of elves studying under a tree. “If you want to blend in, you need to at least recognize some of the plants here. Most elves can name a bunch of them.”

That made sense, he supposed. He had yet to see an elf eating any sort of meat―only fruits and vegetables. He was already struggling enough when it came to lunch and the other meals of the day. It would be helpful indeed to learn the names of some of the plants, just in case he were ever put into a situation where he didn’t have someone friendly around to help out.

Curious, Callum opened the book to a random page―which, of course, had the carefully painted image of a moonberry bush on it. Temporarily, he admired the artistry of the book’s designs; something that couldn’t be reproduced by any sort of printing press.

_ “Where did you get this?”  _ he asked her, signing with both hands under the book.

“The library,” Rayla replied, nodding at the large building in the distance.

He shot her a look.  _ “Did you…steal it?” _

She rolled her eyes. “No, I checked it out. What do you think I am? A professional thief?”

He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d never met anyone who carried around swords or scaled buildings like she did, and he’d spent longer than he cared to admit theorizing on who she really was.

Callum carefully avoided answering her question by turning the page in the book and cocking his head curiously at the next plant that appeared. He hadn’t seen it before, but it certainly looked pretty.

According to the top of the page, it was called a  _ venenum _ plant (which sounded a bit draconic to him). The plant itself resembled a red cayenne pepper from Duren, though the way the artist had painted it made it seem like it was glowing just slightly.

_ “What’s this?” _ Callum asked Rayla. 

She stepped closer to peer at the picture, and he noticed that her ears tilted up in her concentration. Interesting.

“Oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, drawing his attention back to the present. “That’s a venenum plant. It’s a good thing you found that in there. Elves love it, because it’s a good spice for soups, but it’s actually poisonous to humans. Nasty stuff for you.”

Callum swallowed nervously as his eyes widened.  _ “That’s…lovely. I guess I should avoid soups.” _

Rayla gave him a sympathetic smile. “And oatmeal.”

He made a face as he tucked the book into his backpack.  _ “That won’t be a problem. Do…elves actually like oatmeal?” _

Her passive expression transformed into one of incredulity. “Humans  _ don’t? _ ”

Callum had to chuckle at that. Everything was so  _ reversed _ here in Xadia, it was hard not to laugh at it. Although, he supposed that an elf would have a similar reaction if they were forced to hide in Katolis or one of the other human kingdoms.

When they reached Aaravos’s classroom/office, Callum was unsurprised to find that the professor was not present yet.

“Where is he?” Rayla asked, setting down her things on a desk and looking over at him skeptically. This was the first lesson where she would be tagging along and interpreting for him.

_ “He’s usually pretty late,” _ Callum replied.  _ “Don’t ask me why.” _

She looked around the room, her ears twitching upward in her curiosity as she sat on the edge of a desk. He stared at her ears in fascination; he could put on the illusion of an elf all he wanted, but he would never be able to imitate the complex attachment between an elf’s emotions and their ears.

“Well, he certainly has strange tastes,” Rayla commented, then glanced over at him with a smirk. “And it’s considered rude to stare, you know.”

Immediately, his face flushed. _Well, that’s embarrassing._ _“Sorry.”_

“Ah, this must be your interpreter,” Aaravos’s deep voice came. Callum turned to find the professor standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Nice to meet you,” Rayla said, standing from off the desk and extending a hand for him to shake.

“A pleasure,” Aaravos replied, smiling a small smile. “I’m sure you will be an excellent interpreter for young Callum here.”

Callum’s eye twitched at that, annoyed for a reason that he couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it just sounded like the teacher was implying that Callum was helpless somehow. Or maybe he was just imagining things. He  _ had  _ been more paranoid ever since Rayla had discovered his true identity, after all.

Callum sat at a desk and withdrew his sketchbook out of pure habit. In every class except Lujanne’s (and now Aaravos’s), he’d had to use the precious pages of his notebook to communicate. He was already halfway through the act of opening up to a page in the middle when he realized his mistake―and Aaravos had as well.

“You won’t be needing that today,” the Startouch elf said with a small smile. He nodded toward Rayla. “After all, Rayla is here to assist you. I’m sure class will go much more smoothly.”

Callum’s eye twitched again. He was probably imagining it again, but it  _ still _ felt like the professor was talking down to him somehow. Still, he did his best to ignore his irritation and left his sketchbook at the corner of his desk. 

“Excellent,” Aaravos said, leaning back on his own desk. “Today, we will be going over the basics of star magic.”

Callum sat up in his seat. Last time, they had barely covered this topic, hindered by his inability to communicate with his teacher. This was going to be interesting.

**< |>**

Star magic was  _ boring. _

Callum would usually be the last person to admit that learning about magic in any form was boring, but Star magic seemed to be the one exception. It was all ingredients and lists and staring at star maps and memorizing the names of constellations and plenty of other things that begged for his attention. If it wasn’t boring, it was stressful. Aaravos claimed to simply be going over the basics, but by the end of the lesson, Callum was weighed down by copies of star charts, lists of ingredients and spell charms, and more of the like. It was enough to make him scream, which seemed to be very amusing for Rayla.

At least one good thing came out of that particular lesson. Rayla had hit it off with Professor Aaravos, and he interacted with her as much as he interacted with Callum, almost like she was actually one of his students. And she seemed to find plenty of things to make fun of Callum for―like when he dropped his pencil on the floor and fell out of his chair as he reached for it. He’d never claimed to be graceful.

He was secretly relieved when the lesson ended, and he was able to return to his dorm with the homework and extra materials that Aaravos had given him. After a brief dinner and making sure to avoid anything that looked like the venenum plant, he was finally able to collapse into bed without doing any of his homework. 

Who knew pretending to be an elf and hiding in a foreign country’s college could be so exhausting?

Callum had barely closed his eyes before they snapped open again as he felt a jolt of alarm in his heart.

Where was his sketchbook?

**< |>**

Rayla heard him stumbling his way down the hallway before the knock on her door even came. She glanced over at Luna―who was thoroughly engaged in her textbook―and sighed before striding to the door and opening it to reveal a Callum who looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

She took in the situation quickly, as she had been trained to do. She glanced once at him, and then at her roommate, then quickly stepped outside her room and shut the door behind her.

“What is it?” she asked. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

It was true. She’d never seen Callum look more upset (not that she had known him long enough to make a real judgement). He had sweat on his brow, and his hair was a complete mess (even more than usual), like he had just woken up from a dead sleep. His clothes were just as ruffled, and he was tapping one of his hands on his thigh nervously. What could have happened to put him in such a state? He hadn’t even looked this upset when she had discovered his secret on the rooftop.

_ “It’s― _ ” Callum’s hands were shaking, and he took a breath to steady himself, green eyes wide.  _ “I think I left my sketchbook in Aaravos’s classroom.” _

Rayla blinked. Was…was he serious?

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He was a nervous wreck because of a mere  _ sketchbook? _ Only Callum could achieve something of the sort. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t also incredibly annoying, considering that it was almost  _ midnight _ .

“You―you’re kidding, right?” she said, another giggle interrupting her. 

_ “No!”  _ Callum signed, his brow furrowing deeply. Clearly, he was deeply upset.  _ “Rayla, that sketchbook is full of…personal drawings!” _

She cocked an eyebrow. “What sort of personal drawings?”

He blushed, his worry temporarily interrupted by his obvious embarrassment. It was fascinating to see the way the redness of his face interacted with the illusion that disguised him―usually, an elf’s markings darkened when they were embarrassed, along with a healthy blush. Callum’s did not. Interesting.

_ “No, nothing like that!”  _ he quickly signed.  _ “I mean, drawings of my family. My  _ human  _ family!” _

That sobered her up right quick.  _ That  _ was problematic. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

He glared at her.  _ “I was  _ trying, _ but you interrupted!” _

Rayla stifled her exasperation. “You said you left it in Aaravos’s class?”

Callum nodded, the messy brown hair on his head bobbing along almost comically.  _ “It’s the only place it could be. I don’t remember using it for the rest of the day.” _

She sighed, and ran a hand down her face.  _ Why _ did she have to be friends with a human in disguise? Everything was so much more complicated! She never would have to deal with this under normal circumstances―er, at college, at least.

“Wait back in your dorm room,” Rayla ordered him, turning back to her room to grab supplies. “I’ll come back in an hour with the sketchbook.”

He grabbed her shoulder to capture her attention. When she looked back, he was already signing something. 

_ “You’re going to break in.” _ It wasn’t a question; if anything, it was more of a defeated statement, if she could read anything of sign language.

Rayla sighed, then looked around to make sure nobody else was around to hear her. “Yes, Callum. There’s no guarantee Aaravos hasn’t looked in the sketchbook already―you know how curious professors are―but we can’t just leave it there. I’ll break in, and make it look like he kept a candle burning, or someone wanted some of those strange ingredients he keeps on those shelves, or something. Victimless crime.”

_ “I’m coming with you.” _ His face was determined, which she wasn’t expecting from the timid boy.  _ “It’s my sketchbook, and I was stupid enough to leave it behind.” _

“You’ll slow me down.” She didn’t mean for the words to come out cruel, but that’s how it sounded to her ears. She winced, but didn’t take it back. 

_ “No, I won’t. What are you going to do if you get caught? I can help.” _

_ I won’t get caught _ , Rayla almost said, before she saw the stubborn look on the human’s face. If she attempted to ditch him, he was likely to attempt to follow her anyway, and his clumsiness would give her away. Besides, she could use a lookout…

“Ugh,” she groaned, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in irritation. “Fine! But you stay out of my way, got it? And you do exactly what I tell you.”

Callum mock-saluted.  _ “Yes, ma’am.” _

Rayla sighed again.  _ Humans. _

**< |>**

Callum never would have admitted it to Rayla, but he was even more of a nervous wreck breaking into the Crescent Center than he would have been just leaving the journal until morning. He’d never really…broken any sort of law before, human or elven. He’d always been what the kids at school had called a “goody-two-shoes,” partly because however he misbehaved would reflect poorly on his stepfather, and partly because he’d never really had the guts to do anything outside of the set rules.

Rayla seemed to have no such apprehensions. She strode up to the Crescent Center in the dead of night―dark cloak billowing out behind her―confidently, and he thought he could see a small smile on her face. She seemed nonplussed when she discovered that the door to the center was locked, and instead drew one of her swords from her back (and Callum did  _ not _ flinch when he saw it, thank you very much) and jimmied the lock quickly.

_ “How do you know how to do that?” _ Callum found himself asking her as they snuck inside the building, his heart fluttering in his chest like a caged bird at what they were doing.  _ “Have you…done this before?” _

Rayla shot him a sideways glance, her lips pursed. “Let’s just say I had an…interesting childhood.” She spoke in a soft voice, but he could still sense the warning in it. She was clearly not willing to discuss that part of her life, which suited him just fine. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, anyhow.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak straight to Aaravos’s classroom―from what Rayla whispered to him, campus security mostly roamed outside buildings, only checking inside them occasionally. It was fortunate for Callum, he thought, otherwise he would have been caught recharging the enchantment on his back ages ago. Before Rayla had, that is.

She had to repeat the procedure she’d used to bypass the lock on Aaravos’s door, and Callum made sure to look out at the hallway, squinting at anything that looked like the passing shadow of a guard. But no one approached, and after a moment, Rayla pumped her fist as the door to Aaravos’s office swung open.

“Great,” she said, her voice still low. It made her accent stand out more, strangely. “Now, you jus’ stay here, and I’ll find your bloody sketchbook.”

Callum started to protest, but she grabbed his fingers in a fist to stop him from signing and sent him a stern look. He sighed and gave in with a nod. She released his hands, and he dutifully signed,  _ “Look-out duty it is, then.” _

“Good.” Rayla looked back inside the classroom, her ears perking up as she thought. After spending a while watching them, Callum decided that the strange perk was a bit endearing.

He leaned against the wall as she entered the classroom, trying his best to stare out at the hallway and be aware of anyone who approached. It wasn’t exactly easy; any creak of the floorboards or rustle of a tree branch outside made him jump, and he wanted nothing more than to step into the classroom with Rayla and her swords. Ironically, she made him feel safe in a situation such as this.

He couldn’t believe that he’d been so stupid as to leave his sketchbook behind. Normally, it never left his side―hence the strap that his father had had installed into the spine of the book―but he’d just been so  _ bored _ by Aaravos that he couldn’t help but rush out of the classroom as quickly as he could. It was an idiotic move, and he couldn’t help but berate himself for it as he watched the empty and dark hallway.

Callum heard a clunk from inside the classroom. Holding up a finger defensively, he looked inside, only to find Rayla struggling with―what was it that Aaravos had called it?―the  _ dybbuk _ box. The same one that was rumored to hold something terrible inside.

_ “Rayla!” _ he desperately signed at her, feeling his anxiety dilate to the max. Thankfully, she was looking in his direction, and raised a curious eyebrow at his obvious uncomfortability.

“What?” she whispered, still holding the box in one hand and a sword in the other, clearly trying to break the lock.

Callum shook his head. _Elves._ _“Aaravos said that box was…haunted, or something! Put it down! Please?”_

Rayla sighed, and put the box back on the shelf with an exaggerated gesture that said,  _ There? Happy, now? _

Then she sighed, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “It’s called a looko _ ut, _ not a look _ in,  _ Callum.”

He felt his face flush. That seemed to be happening a lot, lately.  _ “Right. Sorry. I’ll get back to…looking out, then.” _

Callum turned back to the hallway, leaning against the doorframe dejectedly. How did she know anything about this, anyway? She was just a student, like him. Or was she?

He wasn’t able to follow that thought to its conclusion, for something soon jolted him out of his reverie.

Footsteps.

Had he a voice, Callum would have uttered a curse as his eyes widened and he turned to Rayla, who was in the middle of examining one of those strange worms as she searched for his sketchbook. There was no time to try and catch her attention and explain. Those footsteps were only getting closer, and he was willing to bet that he knew which professor they belonged to, judging by the heavy gait alone.

Callum dashed inside the room, snatching Rayla’s hand and dragging her away from the shelf, nearly knocking it over in the process. The whole shelf rocked back and forth, and Rayla started to curse at him as items began to rain.

Fortunately, it was only a few items, and they didn’t make too much sound as they fell to the ground. Rayla glared at him, but Callum gestured helplessly at the hallway, where the sound of footsteps was almost thunderous. Her violet eyes widened in shared panic, and without needing to communicate, they scrambled to replace everything.

Callum couldn’t help but soundlessly mutter a vulgar curse that he’d once heard his mother use on a particularly bad day as he placed a pair of bottled worms back on the shelves.

“Callum!” Rayla hissed.

He turned. She was already halfway to the window, but there was no time to open it up and crawl through, even if he could somehow get to the bottom of the building without breaking his neck—Aaravos’s office was on the second floor, after all. And there was still that box on the floor to replace!

He snatched the box off the carpet and made a split-second decision. With the wooden container in one hand, Callum grabbed Rayla’s hand one last time and shoved her into the closet at the far end of the room. He jumped inside and shut the door behind him right as the door to the office opened and Aaravos himself stepped in.

**< |>**

There was no room in the closet. It took all of Rayla’s will and concentration not to jump right out of the miniature room and into the more open one, despite the consequences.

In fact, “closet” was too generous a term. It was more of an  _ extremely _ narrow storage space that served practically no purpose with all of the shelves that Aaravos had in his office.

Rayla made a small whimpering sound in the back of her throat as soon as she realized the implications of their hiding place. She tried to back up, but there was absolutely no space for her. She and Callum were pressed closely together, chest to chest. It was  _ beyond _ uncomfortable.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have noticed. He had his right eye pressed to the crack in the door, attempting to watch whatever was going on outside. He held the box―the same one he had warned her away from―that had apparently fallen from one of the shelves clutched in his hands, though it was rather hard to see in the darkness of the closet.

Rayla couldn’t even clear her throat, for she could hear Aaravos’s footsteps pacing around outside the door. The professor seemed to be wandering around aimlessly, or something else that she just couldn’t see because of the  _ blasted closet. _

She began to sweat. It was too hot in the closet; or perhaps it was just her imagination? To be honest, she wouldn’t have wanted to be put in this situation with  _ anyone, _ but the fact that it was someone she knew made it even worse. Or maybe it was just because it was Callum, a  _ human. _

He looked back at her suddenly, his face wrinkled in worry. He was either not bothered by their situation or too full of anxiety to notice. It was probably the latter.

_ “What’s he doing?” _ Rayla managed to sign in the limited space between them. Her signing was a bit rusty, but she hoped that it was clear enough for Callum to understand what she was asking him.

Callum handed her the box and pressed his eye back to the crack in the door as he signed,  _ “He’s gathering some sort of ingredients.” _ His hands were awfully close to her face, and Rayla had to resist the urge to curse aloud. Curse Aaravos and his terrible timing! Curse this whole situation!

Before she could think of any other curses that were a bit more colorful, there was a bright flash of light from outside the closet. Rayla silently clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from gasping in surprise. Aaravos’s voice rang through the room a moment later.

“How may I serve you?”

Rayla shared a confused look with Callum. Who was the professor talking―

A stranger’s sigh cut through the silence.

“You don’t have to say that every time you contact me.”

Callum tensed so suddenly that Rayla thought he must have died. When she looked over at him, she found that he had gone as white as a sheet, his eyes as wide as saucers. A moment later, she learned why.

“My apologies, Lord Viren,” Aaravos’s deep voice replied. “I simply wish to...make you feel better about the nature of our working relationship.”

_ Viren, _ Rayla remembered.  _ That’s the name of the man that killed Callum’s step-father, isn’t it? _

“Do you have what we discussed?” Viren’s voice came. It was sharp and cutting.

Callum’s breathing had gone sporadic, and his eyes were screwed tightly shut. She could practically  _ sense _ the images and memories flashing through his head, for she had experienced it all before. Memories could be just as dangerous as any sword, knife, or spear.

She put her hands on his shoulders, and she could feel that he was as tense as a bow string. But at least his eyes snapped open to look at her―without actually  _ looking  _ at her. He was going to give them away if he kept breathing like that! Besides, she didn’t want him to experience what she had. 

She couldn’t speak, not without alerting Aaravos to their presence, so she settled for quietly wrapping Callum in a hug, hoping that it would be enough to end her panic attack. It had done so for her in the past. All the while, she listened to the voice of Aaravos, just a few yards away.

“Of course I have it,” Aaravos replied. “What do you think I am?”

“A mysterious Startouch elf who’s betraying his own people to help a human he hardly knows,” Viren’s voice deadpanned.

“Now, now,” Aaravos chided. “That’s no way to talk to a business partner, is it?”

Callum seemed to have relaxed somewhat. He was still plenty tense, but he no longer felt like he was about to snap. His breathing was still a bit labored, but he was much better than he had been. It took Rayla a moment to realize that he was hugging her back just as tightly, the awkwardness―and panic―forgotten. At least temporarily.

“I have it,” Aaravos repeated. “And I will send it to you as soon as I have finished my experiments with it. You will need that knowledge for our plan.”

“ _ My _ plan!” Viren snapped.

Callum tensed at the harshness of his voice. But this was a different sort of tension―not anxiety.

Anger.

Rayla had never actually seen (or felt) Callum angry before. Annoyed, sure. Angry? Never. He’d always seemed far too…easy-going for rage.

She better than anyone knew the danger of anger. Especially now, when Viren’s partner was right outside the closet door.

Especially when the person enraged was holding a freaky box they knew nothing about.

There was light in the closet now, allowing Rayla to see the top shelves of the storage space―which wasn’t a good thing.

Somehow, the wooden box that Callum had brought into the closet with them had ended up back back in his hands, and he had been gripping it tightly in his anger―which had led to a whole host of problems. The box seemed to have been made of an old and brittle wood, which didn't seem particularly safe for a box that might have been possessed. The box had cracked open, and it was glowing with an otherworldly yellow light.

Bollocks.

Thinking fast, Rayla snatched the box out of his hands and stuffed it under her shirt to hide the glow as Aaravos spoke again. 

“Of course,” he said. “ _ Your _ plan. Do you have everything you need when the time comes?”

“I only require a strong magical source for the spell. Will you be able to find the needed specimen in three months?”

“But of course. You know I take my job at the university  _ very _ seriously.” She might have been imagining it, but Rayla thought she could hear the smile in his voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have very important matters to attend to in the admissions office. I will contact you again soon. Goodbye.”

Silence. Callum and Rayla froze. A minute later, footsteps sounded once again, ones leaving the room. Aaravos had left; but were they safe?

Rayla made herself count to two hundred before she dared move, shoving the door open and tumbling out, falling flat on her stomach with a loud  _ thud! _

It was fortunate that Aaravos seemed to have left for good, for that was when everything seemed to fall apart. 

Rayla gasped as she felt a sudden heat on her stomach and withdrew the box that she had hidden under her shirt. In her fall, she had broken it the rest of the way. She barely had time to glimpse inside and see a small glass sphere and what looked like a tiny, severed lizard hand before that yellow light flew out of the box, swirled around the room—and right into Callum’s throat as he climbed out of the closet. 

Immediately, he gasped and fell to the floor, right next to Rayla. He coughed and gasped, clutching at his throat desperately. 

“Callum!” she exclaimed, scrambling over to where he thrashed on the floor. 

His coughing had only gotten worse, his shoulders heaving with each breath. Unsure how to help, Rayla pounded on his back in an attempt to clear whatever evil was in his lungs. 

And then, as suddenly as it had started, Callum straightened, a confused look on his face. 

Then, in a shaky, hoarse voice, he  _ spoke. _

“Uh…Rayla? I think we have problems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ONLY HAVE ONE WEEK OF SCHOOL LEFT WHY DID ALL OF MY TEACHERS DECIDE TO GIVE ME SO MUCH HOMEWORK AT EXACTLY THE SAME TIME?!
> 
> *ahem* Anyway, sorry for the break in between chapters. And once again, I think I could have done a couple things better in this chapter, and I would have liked to put it in later, but I put it in now because it was begging me to. Also idk, I think it'd be funny if Aaravos was actually a terrible teacher. And Callum's been hitting the dumb bitch juice again but we love him anyway :(
> 
> Also I figured if Rayla would curse she'd use a british one? I know a few because my parents use to live there. Idk if it fits or not but imma just leave it there.
> 
> And OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO NICE. I love reading your comments, they seriously make me so happy :) :) <3 I just hope I can live up to your expectations???


	8. Nobody Likes a Loud Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fulminis!"

Rayla gaped at him for a solid five seconds before she regained her senses. Sort of.

“Wha―Callum, how―”

He coughed again, rubbing his throat as he sat up, looking just as confused as she felt. “I…don’t know?”

His voice was still hoarse, but she could tell that there was a boyish character to it. He also had an accent from one of the human kingdoms, and as he coughed, his voice only grew clearer. Rayla couldn’t help but stare. A…sphere of glowing yellow light had flown into his throat, and randomly restored his voice. Had one of those worms gotten loose from its bottle and started chewing on her brain?

Callum wiped sweat off his brow and coughed one last time. Then he grinned and began to speak again, almost to himself. “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.” His voice cracked halfway through, but his grin only grew as he tried again. “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers!” His voice was stronger, now. He turned to Rayla, eyes twinkling excitedly. “Peter Piper picked a _peck of pickled peppers!”_

She stared at him. “Are ye okay?” Her eyes widened. “Did ‘at thing fry yer brain?” She ignored the thick accent that slipped out of her mouth.

Callum laughed―with sound, for once. It was strange to hear, after so long of silence from him. “No, no, it’s a human thing.” That grin was still splitting his lips in two. “I can’t believe I got my voice back! I―” His grin quickly vanished as the shadow of realization passed over his face. “Oh, no. I have my voice back. Why did Aaravos have my voice?”

Rayla frowned. “You…had a voice before?”

He stared at her blankly for a moment. “Of course I had a voice before! I said―well, I signed it, but it was right in front of you when you found me on the roof!”

She ignored the accusation in his voice―which she could clearly read, for he actually _had_ a voice. Now that he wasn’t signing everything, she realized that he was…sort of a dork. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting before― _not_ that she had thought about it at all―but certainly not…that.

Callum either didn’t notice her curiosity or didn’t care as he stood and looked around the room with something close to horror on his face. “Viren is the one who stole my voice. He did it to stop me from telling people what he did and attacking him.” He swallowed hard, looking down at the lizard hand on the ground. In the panic after the closet, Rayla must have left it discarded on the floor. The box lay face down, but the lizard hand had escaped from it and lay palm-first on the floor. “And if Aaravos had it…”

Rayla scrambled to her feet, feeling suddenly dirty by being in that room. “Then Aaravos has been working with Viren from the beginning.”

One revelation was bad enough―Aaravos was working with (or maybe _for_ ) the man who’d killed Callum’s step-father. And now they’d learned that Aaravos had _known_ about the horrible crime that Viren had committed…or at least was willing to keep the stolen voice of a person “safe.”

Oh, this was not good. This was _not_ good at all.

Rayla ran a hand through her hair and between her horns, feeling a flash of her own anxiety. There was a teacher on campus who was in league with a huma―with a murderer, and a user of dark magic. Hadn’t Viren said something about Aaravos “betraying his kind” to help a human he hardly knew? That couldn’t be good.

Callum was breathing heavily again, but he seemed have have more control over it―whether it was anger or anxiety. He tugged on his right ear as he leaned over and picked up the creepy lizard hand. A conflicted look passed over his face as he observed it, but he eventually settled for chucking the thing across the room, where it hit the wall with a satisfying _thud._ He sat heavily on the end of Aaravos’s desk, playing with his hands. He didn’t seem to know what to do with them now that he had a voice of his own.

Eventually he spoke.

“We have to tell somebody about this.”

Even in her flabbergasted state, Rayla could tell that this wasn’t exactly the best idea. She picked her words carefully, however. “And tell them what, Callum? That we broke into a professor’s office and overheard a conversation that should have been impossible because Viren wasn’t even _here?_ They’d never believe us.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment before his green eyes filled with determination.

“I think getting in trouble is a small price to pay for exposing someone who’s working with a murderer.” A hard edge had snuck into his voice. This was so unnatural! She was used to hearing her own voice in her head as she read the gestures he used to articulate. “And besides, I’m sure that lizard hand is evidence enough and―” He paused, his eyes lighting up. “What else was in the box? There was something else, wasn’t there? Maybe it’s incriminating!”

By the primal sources, only Callum could make finding an incriminating piece of evidence sound _fun._ And she’d only heard his voice for a remarkable five minutes, if that! What a strange human.

Nonetheless, Rayla indulged him, since she was closest to the box in question, and she nudged it carefully with her toe. Indeed, there seemed to be something else rolling around inside, and she remembered briefly glancing the shape of a glass sphere before the light had blinded her and restored Callum’s voice. Cautiously, and using the edge of one of her swords to move it out of the way, Rayla removed the box.

And gasped.

Because Aaravos had a primal stone. Aaravos had a primal stone of the sun.

**< |>**

Callum stared at the sphere on the ground in awe, hardly even realizing that he had stood to see it better. He knew enough about magic to recognize a primal stone, of course, but this was a different primal stone than anything he had held before―not that he had much experience, of course.

The inside of the stone flickered with an otherworldly orange light, blended perfectly with yellow and red. Callum soon realized why; there seemed to be a flame trapped inside the small orb, and not just any flame. It was almost as if a forest fire had been trapped inside the sphere, the fire dancing around like the performers in a ballet. As he stepped closer, he could sense the warmth that the primal stone radiated, and realized that he recognized it from the very first time that he inspected the box.

“Woah,” he breathed, crouching down by it.

He’d held a primal stone before, of course. Claudia had borrowed a sky primal stone from her father, and let him practice with it. That was before he had graduated high school. The sky primal stone had radiated a different sort of energy; freedom, along with the feel of wind in his hair. This stone in front of him now felt like the warmth of a campfire, coupled with the intense heat one felt before they were burned.

“Why does Aaravos have this?” Rayla asked, crouching down by the primal stone as well. She poked the primal stone with a tentative finger, her ears sticking nearly straight up as she chewed on her lower lip in thought.

“And why not put it somewhere a little more secure than a supposedly haunted box?” Callum asked, staring at the stone with an equal mix of apprehension and curiosity. _A box that happened to have my voice in it, too…_

He picked the primal stone up, ignoring the hiss of warning from Rayla. The stone felt warm in his hands, but didn’t burn him―not that he was expecting it to. Most of the energy in a primal stone could only be released through a spell.

He stared into the glass of the stone, watching the flames inside flicker. Why would Aaravos need something like this? Unless…

“Didn’t Aaravos say something about running experiments?” Callum asked, looking up at Rayla.

She watched the primal stone warily. She must not have seen one up close before. “You think it could have been this thing?”

“Why not?” he replied. He remembered seeing the sky primal stone in Viren’s office numerous times before, often sitting among various alchemical instruments and notes haphazardly strewn about the place. “Not a lot is known about primal stones. A lot of people don’t even know how to make them anymore.”

She regarded him suspiciously, which he was getting used to by this point. “How do you know that?”

“I used to have one,” Callum commented offhandedly as he stared into the primal stone in his hand.

Rayla made a choking sound, and when he looked back at her, he found that she looked like all of the air had been knocked out of her. Her ears were sticking even higher up than before, and her eyes were wide.

“ _You_ ―used to _have_ a _primal stone?”_ she demanded, and he couldn’t decide whether she sounded angry or just plain shocked.

He waved a hand in dismissal. “It was a long time ago. I lost it, so―”

“You _lost_ a _primal stone?!”_ Rayla yelped, and Callum felt a flash of alarm at how loud she was being. What if Aaravos was still in the building? What if he heard? Fear traveled the length of his spine like an ice cube down his back.

Without thinking, Callum smacked a hand over her mouth, sending her a warning glare. He’d just gotten his voice back― _he_ should be the loud one here, not her!

“It just vanished one day,” he said in a low voice. “I saw it in Viren’s office a week later.”

If anything, that seemed to make her more distressed, which hadn’t been his intention at all. She smacked his hand away from her mouth, returning his glare with an even more powerful one.

“So you’re telling me that _both_ Viren and Aaravos have primal stones?” she growled at him―thankfully in a more quiet voice this time around.

Callum winced, but he tried his best not to show how uncomfortable―or afraid―her words made him feel. “Not anymore.”

She raised a confused eyebrow at him. “What are you talking about?” She sounded quite thoroughly fed up, both with him and the whole situation she had been thrusted into in general.

He felt a flash of guilt at that. It had not been his intention to drag her into anything serious. It hadn’t even been his intention to drag himself into this! Still, after everything that had happened, he figured it was too late to turn back now.

“Because,” he elaborated, holding up the warm primal stone in his hand. “I’m going to steal this.”

Rayla blinked. Then again. Finally, she spoke.

“I think you mean _we’re_ going to steal that.”

Now it was Callum’s turn to stare at her. He’d questioned why she bothered to help him, of course, but now the inquiry had risen to the front of his mind, burning itself into the meat of his brain.

She seemed to understand, and sighed as she crossed her arms.

“Viren’s a murderer and he said something about betraying the elves. Besides,” she added, a sly look in her eye that was almost teasing, “if there’s a human on campus with a primal stone, it’s my duty as an elf to keep an eye on him.”

Callum rolled his eyes so hard that he could feel his eye sockets shake with the force. “Yeah, totally.” Maybe under any other circumstances, he would have been offended―or at least annoyed―by her teasing, but he was a bit too emotionally exhausted to care.

“But we still need to find that sketchbook of yours,” Rayla said, straightening and looking around the room. “After that, we can report Aaravos and try to figure out what the hell is happening here.”

He couldn’t help staring at her for a moment. Rayla barely knew him at all, yet she was willing to help him with something that could clearly be dangerous?

He quickly realized the irony of that statement. Rayla could handle herself with ease, if he knew anything about the way she carried those swords. _He_ was the one who was going to need help if things got dangerous. She no doubt knew that, and was willing to help him despite it.

It felt…nice. Even if her motivations were mostly to protect her people, she was willing to protect him too, even though she didn’t really know him.

Or maybe he was just reading too much into things. He had a habit of doing that, he reflected as he stood as well and looked for somewhere to store the primal stone. Cursing his foresight not to bring a bag, Callum settled for stuffing the primal stone in one of the pockets of his jacket. It was still warm, and he could feel it through the fabric, but thankfully the bulge of the sphere didn’t show too much.

“Aha!” Rayla exclaimed suddenly.

He turned. She was standing behind Aaravos’s desk, an open drawer in front of her—and Callum’s journal in her hand.

He groaned and slammed the heel of his palm into his forehead. “It was in his desk drawer the whole time! We’re so stupid!”

He hardly noticed how both of them had switched from “I” to “we.”

**< |>**

Callum had only ever been to the admissions office a handful of times, and those visits had always been during the day―not in the dead of night. He wasn’t even sure if there would be anyone there, but it was worth a shot. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night anyway.

Callum kept one hand on the primal stone in his pocket at all times. It was warm against his skin, which was reassuring—he was so nervous that he was sure all of the blood had rushed to his head. The primal stone was evidence, he was sure of it. There was no way a simple college professor like Aaravos was sanctioned to have one—not if he was hiding it away in a cursed box.

“You’re terrible at this,” Rayla commented as they approached the admissions building. She smirked as he looked over at her, perplexed. “Your face is as red as a venenum bush.”

He scowled. “It is not!”

It definitely was. Callum cursed under his breath—oh, how he missed doing that!—and tried to focus on calming his nerves. He was an artist, not a thief or a warrior or whatever Rayla was. He clutched the primal stone harder. All he had to do was expose Aaravos, and then…and then someone else could figure out what to do next. Maybe Viren would get what was coming to him, too.

“Relax, sad prince.” Rayla was still smirking. He found it infuriating and (somehow) endearing in equal measures. “We’ll just take this to the folks in charge and Aaravos’ll be in chains, no problem.” Her smirk transformed into a reassuring smile. “Stop worryin’ so much.”

Callum forced his shoulders to untense. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, dummy.”

And this time, when she grinned, he grinned back.

The inside of the admissions office was dark, but when they opened the door, Callum could see light farther inside, originating from one of the offices. He and Rayla shared a look before venturing further inside.

Callum vaguely remembered the lounge outside the set of offices from when Lujanne had brought him in there the first time. He also remembered that he wasn’t particularly impressed by the couches and velvet. He let his eyes slide over the shallow finery as his grip tightened further on the primal stone in his pocket.

He felt the dull burn of rage in his chest again, but did his best to stifle it. Aaravos was involved with the man who had killed Callum’s step-father. For all he knew, Aaravos had been the one to urge Viren to do it. Callum was going to make sure that everyone knew, that justice was done.

He let Rayla take the lead as they stride toward the light source. He wasn’t _completely_ dense; he knew that he wasn’t supposed to have a voice, not if he wanted to maintain the cover he had crafted for himself. It would be easier for Rayla to explain things if she went first.

As it turned out, the office that was still occupied belonged to the headmaster. Callum knew it somewhat as well; Lujanne had taken him before the headmaster to plead Callum’s “special case” not too long ago. It brought a familiar pang to his heart to see the light on in the office, for he remembered that Harrow used to work long hours as well.

Headmaster Pharon was a portly Skywing elf, but his wings were small, like Callum’s illusionary ones, and covered in soft brown feathers. He had sea-green markings on the shape of waves under his eyes, and had ink covering his four fingers.

Oh, and he wasn’t alone. Aaravos had decided the grace the office with his presence as well.

Callum tensed as soon as he saw the tall Startouch elf, and kept his jaw screwed tightly shut lest he begin spewing curses at him—or start whimpering.

“Rayla?” Headmaster Pharon asked, looking over at the two teens in surprise. “What’s our star fencer doing here?” Then he seemed to notice that Callum was there as well. “With Callum? In the middle of the night?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Rayla replied casually. How could she possibly be so calm? Callum’s heart was threatening to jump out of his chest at the mere thought of being in the same room with Aaravos while in possession of the primal stone in his pocket.

“Oh,” Aaravos replied, right on cue. “I was just informing the headmaster about a recent robbery in my office.”

Callum’s blood went cold.

“Wh-what do ye mean?” Rayla said, her accent slipping out again.

Headmaster Pharon leaned back in his seat. “Apparently, some ruffians broke into Professor Aaravos’s office not an hour ago and stole some very important research material.”

The primal stone in Callum’s pocket seemed to heat up.

“I’m sorry to say that your sketchbook was stolen as well,” Aaravos said, turning to fix Callum with a look that froze him to the spot. “You left it in my classroom earlier, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Callum gulped. Aaravos _knew_. He’d probably known that they had been in his closet the whole time. It was a good thing that Rayla had convinced him to leave his sketchbook out in the lobby, otherwise they would have been discovered.

There was something dangerous in Aaravos’s eyes as well. Something that Callum had seen before―in the eyes of the man who had killed his step-father.

Aaravos would not hesitate to kill them if they exposed him. He’d do it in front of the headmaster.

He’d _enjoy_ it.

Callum began to sweat nervously. His own death he could perhaps handle, as long as it exposed Aaravos for the slimy eel he was. But he could not tolerate Rayla’s death on his behalf, even when she was trying to help.

“What are you two here for?” Pharon asked, his eyes narrowing at the two students. “You should both be back in your dorms at this hour.”

 _“We were…”_ Callum started to sign, before realizing that he hadn’t actually come up with any sort of excuse.

“We were about to tell you the same thing,” Rayla lied effortlessly. The only indication that she shared Callum’s nervousness was the subtle twitching of her ears. “We saw a couple of suspicious figures hanging out around the Crescent Center and thought we should report it.”

She was a good liar. She didn’t blink, twitch, or give any sign that she was telling anything other than the truth. Clearly, she had experience. Callum wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. He wasn’t sure _anything_ could make him feel better at this point. Not with Aaravos staring at him like that.

“Oh,” Pharon said, his suspicion vanishing. He was a very nice elf, as Callum had noticed on his very first visit with the headmaster. “Well. I commend your diligence, but you both should really be back in your dorms. I’ll let it slide this time.”

Rayla bowed―a common elven custom involving authority figures―and Callum quickly followed suit, feeling the tips of his fingers shaking with a dangerous cocktail of anxiety and fury. This was so, _so_ bad.

He hardly even noticed that she was guiding him out of the admissions office until he felt the wind on his face, and they were away from the stuffy confines of Headmaster Pharon’s office. He did notice, however, that his fists were clenched tightly. He probably looked like he was about to deck somebody. The last place he wanted to be was back at his dorm room, because then he would have to wake Ezran and explain how things had gone terribly wrong.

Rayla seemed to sense that, for she was steering him in the opposite direction of the admissions office. Callum blinked and stopped walking, a bit disoriented.

“Where are we going?” he asked, glancing around the campus. They were bound to get caught by campus security at some point, weren’t they?

“Well, I’m sure nae goin’ back teh sleep,” Rayla said, then winced and corrected her accent. Callum had never heard it so thick before, but before he could speculate as to why, she had corrected her diction. “Uh, I mean I’m not going back to sleep. I don’t think you want to, either. I reckon we’ve both got to do something or lose our minds after that.”

It was then that Callum noticed the tense way she was holding herself, as if she were ready for some sort of fight. Her hands kept flinching back toward the butt of her swords and then away, and her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

“Are you all right?” Callum found himself asking her. Why was she upset? Aaravos hadn’t been an accomplice to the man who’d killer _her_ father figure.

“I hate bullies,” she almost muttered. But when she looked at him, her violet eyes were full of nothing but sympathy. “Besides, I think I should be the one asking _you_ that.”

He shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Anyone else at home would have seen through it. But Rayla didn’t. Instead, she cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him and gestured down at his right hand―which he realized with a flash of horror was glowing green with magic, ready to trace some sort of symbol in the air.

“Come on,” Rayla told him, tugging on his arm helpfully. “We both need somewhere to think and blow off steam, and I know just the place.”

**< |>**

The practice field of the activity center was a very familiar place to Rayla. Even though it was still fairly early in the semester, she had been training for “fencing” in the yard almost every day of the week. There hadn’t been any official matches yet―that was in a month or two, she couldn’t remember when―but nonetheless, it was often empty. The field was on the edge of campus, and thus not really worth the time of campus security. There was a forest nearby, and anyone who tried to sneak through a Xadian forest at night wasn’t too bright.

It was the perfect spot for Callum to blow off some steam. Rayla didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that he was deeply upset by the events of the last hour, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he got some of that energy out. She was often the same way, and she was quickly learning that she and Callum were really quite similar.

“Rayla,” Callum sighed in his newfound voice, “why are we here? The headmaster told us to go back to our dorms.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and decided to repeat herself. “And you were really going to just… _sleep_ after all that?”

He quieted, and she knew that her suspicions had been correct. Still, she figured that she should indulge his curiosity.

“This is Sylva Field,” Rayla explained, gesturing around at the field with her hands. “It’s where the fencing team usually practices in the afternoons.”

It was also one of her favorite places on campus. The field itself was long, large enough to fit four square dueling rings inside. Most rings were encased by a wooden or brick half-walls that came up to the knees, but Rayla understood that the college replaced the walls of their rings after each season. At the moment, each ring was outlined with fluorescent blue and orange paint that glowed brightly against the darkness of the night. At the edge of the field, small wooden dummies were set up, scarred by years of sword practice. Opposite the dummies were the metal bleachers (a human innovation that the college had adopted about a decade ago, if she knew anything about the university’s history).

Callum frowned. It was a bit harder to judge a human’s emotions (how did they function without moving ears?), but even so it was obvious that he was confused by her behavior. “So…why are we here?”

Rayla set her swords down on one of the bleachers and rubbed her hands together to warm them up. The wind was blowing, and the chill was beginning to get to her extremities. “I need to blow off some steam. So do you. We might as well do something productive.”

Now it was Callum’s turn to cock an eyebrow at her. “Since when is getting caught by campus police productive?”

She rolled her eyes and blew on her hands. “We’re not going to get caught, dummy. Campus security never comes out here anyway. See that?” She pointed at the forest beyond the field. “That’s Brutum Forest. Stops any troublemakers before they can say ‘oops!’”

He regarded the mass of trees and bushes a couple hundred yards away suspiciously. “And…why are we so close to it?” His voice cracked. For his sake, she decided to ignore it.

“Because whatever is in the forest _stays_ in the forest,” Rayla explained, trying her best to be patient. “Most kids―and campus security―are too afraid to go near it during the _daytime_. It does a real number on fencing team tryouts, or so I’ve heard.”

Ironically, Callum seemed to relax once she told him this. Clearly, he was more afraid of campus police than he was of…whatever mystical creatures lurked in Brutum Forest. Being a human, he had probably been raised to believe that whatever went bump in the night wasn’t real. Humans were _really_ strange.

Now that her hands were warmed up, Rayla picked up one of her swords and flipped it around some, embracing the familiar feel of the weapon in her hand. After a moment, she realized that Callum was watching her curiously. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked over at him with a look that she hoped communicated her dislike of being stared at.

Callum shrugged after a moment. “What am I supposed to do? I’m not exactly a building-scaling, door-busting, sword-wielding…ninja like you.”

Rayla’s eye twitched, though she couldn’t tell if it was from agitation or amusement. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

His face reddened for the millionth time that day. It was becoming amusing to watch. “I…uh, yeah?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle, and couldn’t help that chuckle from turning into guffaw. She’d had a long day, and needed to laugh, and the fact that he was such a _dweeb_ with his voice didn’t help matters much. Granted, he had been a dweeb before, but he was even more of a dweeb now, when he fumbled over his compliments and his voice cracked. It was actually sort of cute.

Before she could slam down on that thought, she realized that Callum was frowning at her, trying his best to stifle his own laughter.

“What?” he asked, through a badly disguised snort. “What did I do?”

“You―” Rayla wheezed, hands on her knees, “are the _dumbest_ human I have ever met.”

This time he seemed to allow a chuckle to escape from his mouth. “Have you…met many humans?”

She managed to get a handle on her laughter, and wiped a tear from her eye as she straightened. “Well…no, but they can’t get much dumber than you.”

For a moment, she worried that she had offended him, but then his face split into a grin.

“Oh, yes they can,” he replied. “There are quite a few humans back home that _definitely_ rival my stupidity.”

His statement was followed by a strange sort of drooping in his face as he must have realized that he wasn’t back home. Rayla thought she understood; Callum couldn’t go home until he dealt with Viren, and he couldn’t deal with Viren while Aaravos was in the way.

Rayla felt her ears droop in sympathy. Despite everything, Callum was just a kid who missed his home. He was just like her. Humans may have been strange, but they weren’t completely different from elves, she was beginning to realize.

She cleared her throat a bit awkwardly, unsure how to comfort him. “Anyway, I, uh, figured you might like the chance to practice your magic. You know, now that you have your voice back.” By the sources, that was still too strange to even think about, much less say aloud.

His eyes lit up at the proposition, unexpectedly. He looked around at the field with a newfound enthusiasm, and she found herself torn between rolling her eyes and smiling just slightly. She settled for both. _Dork._

“Won’t somebody see, though?” Callum asked, already sliding his sketchbook off of his shoulders and setting it down on the bleachers nearby.

Rayla sighed and pointed to the forest in the distance. He blanched, but he nodded, and the grin returned to his face after a moment.

“Right,” he said with a nod. “Magic forest. _Creepy_ magic forest.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Go crazy, sad prince. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.”

He didn’t need much more encouragement than that. As she sat on the bleachers and pulled out a whetstone from her pocket, Callum rubbed his hands together excitedly, viewing the practice dummies across the field like a child might look at a present on Winter’s Turn.

She looked down at her swords. They could probably use a good oiling as well as a sharpening, and winced when she reflected at how poorly she’d been treating them the past few weeks. Swords were just like pets; they had to be well-taken care of, or their health started to decline. At least her swords hadn’t started to rust. Runaan had once caught her swords in that state, and she _still_ hadn’t heard the end of it.

A flash of light caught her attention, and she looked up just in time to see Callum holding a glowing symbol in the air: a series of glowing blue squiggles that she vaguely realized she recognized, even if she didn’t remember the paired draconic word to activate the spell. Callum did, though.

“ _Fulminis!”_ Callum exclaimed with glee, as the light from the spell channeled itself into a ball of lightning in his hand.

Rayla’s whetstone dropped to the ground as she watched a bolt of lightning explode from Callum’s― _Callum’s!_ ―hand and strike one of the wooden dummies in the arm. Her jaw dusted the dirt as she saw Callum’s grin widen further.

He really hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was connected to the sky arcanum.

Well, of course he’d _shown_ her before, with the symbol for the aspiro spell on the roof of Blossom Hall, but actually seeing him perform a complete spell was something else. Callum was a _human_ who had connected to an _arcanum_. If things were different between Xadia and the human kingdoms, she could think of several professors who would have loved to study Callum.

“Oh, good,” Callum said with a relieved sigh, looking at the practice dummy he had just hit. “It didn’t catch on fire.”

Rayla picked her whetstone up before he could see that she’d dropped it and tried to cover up her surprise. “It’s made out of igniswood, dummy. It’s naturally fireproof. A lot of buildings in Xadia are made out of it.”

“Huh.” He seemed genuinely fascinated by this. “Yeah, I could have used a few buildings made out of that when I first started practicing magic.”

She gave him a look. “Why? Did you burn down a few houses?”

Callum didn’t reply, but the blush on his face―clearly visible despite the darkness around them―was answer enough.

“Callum!” Rayla exclaimed with a laugh, because the mere thought of _Callum_ burning anything down was _hilarious_ , despite what she’d just seen. How could she ever think that he was a threat to the Xadians at the college? He was too soft for that, judging by the sheepish look on his face. “You little arsonist!”

He blushed harder, which only made Rayla laugh more. It was a good thing; she hadn’t had much to laugh at lately, what with the discoveries they’d been making.

The arrival of that thought in her mind sobered her quickly, and Callum seemed to sense it too, for he was frowning deeply, his blush evaporated.

He sat next to her on the bleachers after a moment, shoulders slumped. “What are we going to do, Rayla?”

She could practically _feel_ the worry rolling off of him in waves, a stark contrast to the excited nerd who had stood before her just a few minutes before. She sighed.

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. She held up one of her swords, which glinted in the moonlight. “I’m still tryin’ to figure out why Aaravos let us go when he _knows_ we have his primal stone.”

“Maybe he didn’t know that part,” Callum suggested, but Rayla could tell by his defeated tone that he didn’t really believe that.

“No, he knew.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Maybe the one we stole was a fake?”

He pulled the primal stone out of his pocket. It glowed with a warm inner light in the darkness, and she could feel the magic radiating from it.

“Seems plenty real to me,” Callum commented, tapping on the glass of the stone with one of this fingers. “Too bad I don’t know any sun spells. Then we could test it for real.”

Rayla cocked her head at that. “Can you use a primal stone when you’re already connected to a different primal source?”

He thought about that for a moment, then eventually shrugged. “Dunno. Might be fun to try, though.” His green eyes lit up in excitement at the thought.

She frowned and stared at the primal stone. “Maybe he thinks you’ll get yourself killed if you tried to use it.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks for that,” Callum replied with a chuckle, though it seemed half-hearted. “Maybe Aaravos is just crazy.”

“Maybe.” Rayla wasn’t too sure. Aaravos seemed to be stable―as stable as a college teacher who threatened his students could be. Maybe it Pharon hadn’t been so _dense,_ he would have seen through Aaravos’s pleasant facade and seen how he was frightening them so.

 _Frightening Callum_ , she corrected. She didn’t _get_ scared. She got angry.

Still…there had to be some reason that Aaravos had let them keep the primal stone. If she couldn’t figure it out on her own, she could only hope that she and Callum would never find out.

Yikes. This was all so _complicated_ , and she didn’t want to think about it at that moment. Or at all, really, so she stood from the bleachers, holding her swords in the loose but firm grip that Runaan had taught her all those years ago. She may not have been an ace with magic―ironic, considering the college she was at and what she was majoring in―but she was good at one thing: fighting. And right now, she just needed to do something other than sit on the bleachers and contemplate the ways in which they were _screwed_.

When she was a viable distance away from the practice dummies, she flicked her swords into their regular position and felt the wind on her face for a moment. Then she hurled one of her swords as hard as she could.

 _Thunk!_ The blade slammed into the wooden dummy with violent intent, making the mannequin rock on its pedestal. Rayla sniffed, frowning as she realized that her sword had struck the dummy in nearly the same place that Callum’s lightning bolt had; she was out of practice.

“Woah,” she heard Callum breathe, and turned to find him staring at her, and then at the dummy with her sword peeking out of it. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

It was her turn to blush. “My…dad…taught me.” That wasn’t giving too much away, was it? She didn’t really feel like answering questions about her past at that moment. Or ever.

Callum was grinning one of those ridiculous little grins again. “Your dad must be awesome.”

She felt her brow furrow. He was…impressed by her skills? That was a new one. Even the other kids on the fencing team were somewhat intimidated by her prowess.

Her brow only furrowed further when she saw the look on his face, one she was growing more and more familiar with seeing on his features: nostalgia. He was thinking of his own father…or his step-father. It was clear that he viewed them as one and the same person.

She suddenly felt the need to distract him from that feeling. Without thinking too much about it, she opened her mouth and asked a question.

“So how does that tattoo on your back work, anyway?" Rayla asked, gesturing at the small illusionary wing stubs that formed a bulge in his clothing. "Couldn't you have made your wings bigger, at least?”

Thankfully, it seemed to work, and Callum’s face took on a more…scholarly tone. He really was curious about everything, wasn’t he?

“Lujanne tattooed it on me when Ez and I first got here,” he replied, his eyes far away as he remembered. “It has to be recharged under the moon every five days, or it loses its power. And I, uh…could have had bigger wings, but, er…tattoos are painful, and I―” He cleared his throat. “―couldn’t handle anymore.”

He seemed ashamed of that fact, which Rayla couldn’t understand. Why was that such a bad thing?

“You know,” she said, twirling the remaining sword in her hand around absently, “in Moonshadow elf culture, it’s considered a mark of honor to know how high your pain tolerance is.”

He looked up at her, surprised. “Really?”

She nodded. “It means you’ve explored how much pain you can handle. You know your weaknesses. It’s considered a gift to know that.”

Callum seemed comforted by that knowledge. Good. But he was as curious as ever, of course.

“So how much can _you_ handle?” he asked her, looking genuinely interested.

She didn’t answer, choosing instead to stare up at the moon. It seemed to have recovered from the new moon just a few days ago, its silvery light shining down on the field. As she avoided the answer to his question, the answer to a different one popped into her head without warning.

“Lujanne!” she suddenly exclaimed, turning back to Callum with a small grin of her own.

He frowned at her, clearly confused. “Your pain tolerance is…Lujanne?”

She rolled her eyes and sighed―something that was becoming more common the longer she hung around this human. “No, I mean we can take the primal stone―” She thrusted a finger toward the small sphere still clutched in his hands. “―to Lujanne, and she can help us figure out what to do with it! She helped you before, didn’t sher?”

Callum thought about that for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah! Maybe she’ll find somewhere to hide it from Aaravos! She is a moon mage, after all.”

Rayla let her shoulders slump, finally. They had a plan, now. Hopefully they could get this all sorted out in the morning. Hopefully.

After all, how could things possibly get any worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I tie myself to a desk today to actually get some work done? Yes I did. Did I crank out two thousand words as a result? Yes I did.
> 
> Also: HOLY HECK I have a thousand hits!? I'm torn between surprise and excitement. I might have mentioned that I'm a tad unconfident, so it really warms my heart to see that. <3
> 
> Further: I only have three days of school left before I'm a senior? Just a few exams? I'm not ready my dudes.


	9. Gilavor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Follow a possible murderer? Why not?"

“I have no idea what to do.”

Callum fell off the desk and barely managed to catch himself before he hit the floor. “You _what?”_

Lujanne shrugged so nonchalantly that he wanted to scream. They were sitting in her office after having class that morning, and she had been very surprised indeed to find that Callum’s voice had returned to him. Almost as surprised as he was himself—as he _still_ was.

Callum and Rayla were both zombies, though it wasn’t for any lack of an attempt to sleep. At least, on Callum’s part. He’d gotten back to his dorm room late at night, after trying out a few more spells (which felt _amazing_ after going so long without being able to do magic), and had collapsed into his bed without waking Ezran, thankfully. Callum had rolled out of bed (quite literally) that morning and stumbled to Lujanne’s class like the undead, highly aware of the sun primal stone that he had kept in the bottom of his bag―the same primal stone that was now sitting out in the open on Lujanne’s desk.

She had listened to their story of the night before patiently, only asking questions once they had finished. She didn’t seem at all surprised by Rayla’s discovery of Callum being human, and especially not by Aaravos’s behavior, the latter of which she accepted with only a nod and the comment, “He always did give me strange vibes.”

Maybe that was why Callum’s mother had liked Lujanne. Sarai had been a good judge of character; apparently (despite her unusual behavior), Lujanne was too. Except, clearly, when it came to making plans.

“What do ye mean ye don’t _know?”_ Rayla demanded, leaning a hand on her hip as she glared at the professor, her accent slipping out once more. Callum was beginning to find it charming.

Lujanne shrugged once more, leaning back against her blackboard and not paying any mind to the white chalk dust that coated the back of her mage robes. “I don’t know what to tell you. I fake most of my wisdom, as my first three husbands would tell you.”

Callum’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“It’s not important,” Lujanne replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. She looked back at the primal stone on her desk. “Under normal circumstances, I would instruct both of you to take this to the authorities or the headmaster, but I suspected Aaravos would know if both of those events occurred and take the stone back for himself.”

Rayla groaned, clearly exasperated. “Can’t you…you know, use your Moonshadow powers to hide it?” She gestured between Lujanne and the primal stone as she spoke.

Lujanne cocked an eyebrow, the edge of her mouth tugging up in a skeptical smile. “Last I checked, you also have Moonshadow powers, young lady.”

Rayla blushed.

“And yes, I suppose I could,” Lujanne continued, looking contemplative, “but illusion spells on people and objects not connected to the moon arcanum require constant recharging, as I’m sure Callum could tell you.”

Callum sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Then why can’t we hide it somewhere under the moon at night?”

Lujanne rolled her eyes, which immediately made him feel like a fool. “You better than anyone should know that would never work, Callum. When an illusion spell is recharging, the enchantment is not active. It would be exposed every time the moon came out.”

Rayla crossed her arms and growled out a curse. “I hate irony.”

“But can’t you just…take it?” Callum insisted, grabbing the primal stone and holding it out to her. “Keep it with you?”

Lujanne physically recoiled. “You want an elf connected to the moon arcanum to take a _sun_ primal stone?”

“What?” he asked, frowning. Even Rayla seemed uncomfortable with the proposition. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It’d be like asking an Earthblood elf to hold onto that sky primal stone you used to have,” Rayla explained, her arms still crossed. “The sun is the exact opposite of our energy, Callum. Eventually, it’d make us sick to have all that opposing energy around.”

“Oh,” Callum said, cocking his head as he thought about that. He wondered if the same thing would happen to him if he held onto an earth primal stone. Magic was _fascinating._

And distracting. He needed to focus on the matter at hand. He could wonder about magical theories later, when there weren’t _two_ homicidal maniacs out for his blood.

“So you can’t help us,” he said, scowling. Of course not. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?

“Not necessarily,” Lujanne responded after a moment, tapping on the edge of her chin. Somehow, their conversation must have given her some semblance of an idea. “There’s one student on campus who might be willing to help you.”

Rayla frowned, her ears perking up. Callum wasn’t sure what that meant, but he assumed that it was a sign of skepticism.

“A student?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Not a teacher? No offense, but why would we want to get another kid involved in this? It’s already too much for the two of us to handle. Plus his wee brother. How much can another student really help?”

The edge of Callum’s mouth tilted up in a small smile despite the circumstances. He’d never heard Ezran referred to as his “wee” brother before. He decided that Ezran, in all of his thirteen-year-old perkiness, would have liked the label. Callum made a mental note to call him that sometime.

“None taken,” Lujanne said, drawing Callum’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “But you’ll see when you find this student. It’s…better for you to see him so you can understand. Many of the teachers are aware of him, because of his…special case.”

Callum perked up. _He_ was a special case. Maybe there was someone else like him on campus? He hadn’t heard anything about another mute student.

“Won’t that mean Aaravos’ll know about him, then?” he asked, trying to grasp how this would help them. “And why would he even want to help us in the first place?”

Lujanne smiled knowingly. “You’ll see. He’s quite talented with sun magic, I’ve heard.”

Callum and Rayla shared a look.

“Great,” Rayla said with an exaggerated eye roll. “I suppose we don’t have many options, do we? What’s this fellow’s name?”

Lujanne paused, racking her brain for a moment.

“Gilavor.”

**< |>**

“Ugh,” Callum groaned into his hands, soft enough so that no one else would hear. “Did she have to be so cryptic about it?”

“Shh!” Rayla said, elbowing him in the side as a group of Earthblood elves passed by. “Do ye want te get caught?”

He smirked at the slip of her accent. It was becoming more and more frequent lately, though he couldn’t understand why she constantly covered it up. It suited her.

They were on their way to the other side of campus, where the dorm belonging to the seniors and juniors (Founder’s Hall) was located. Lujanne had managed to inform them that this “Gilavor” they were looking for was a senior before she kicked them out of her classroom so she could prepare her next lesson. Callum found it endlessly frustrating.

She cleared her throat. “You mean sort of shifty? I think it has something to do with ‘reality versus illusion.’” She chuckled, shaking her head with a small smile. “Most moon mages are like that.”

“You’re not,” Callum said with a chuckle of his own. “You’re rather straightforward, actually. It’s refreshing.” That much was true. Many humans had developed the habit of sugarcoating and dancing around the truth. At least she was straightforward with what she didn’t wish to speak about.

It took him a moment to realize that Rayla had paused. When he looked back at her, he realized that she had stopped walking, and he had outpaced her just slightly.

“I’m not exactly a _mage_ , Callum,” Rayla replied after a moment, adjusting her backpack awkwardly and rejoining him. As they began walking again, she picked a starfruit off the ground and began picking off some of the leaves near the top. “I’m really better with my swords than I am a spell.”

_“But you know stuff about the moon rune, right?”_ he signed to her, trying to maintain his cover of mute Skywing elf. It was frustrating; after so long without a voice, he wanted to use it every chance he got. But in order to keep himself and Ezran safe, he had to revert to not using his voice at all.

“I suppose,” she said with a shrug. “I have been taking Lujanne’s classes, after all.”

_“There you go,”_ Callum signed with a smile that he hoped was encouraging. _“You’re already halfway there.”_

She cocked her head and thought about that for a moment. “I guess you’re right.” She sent him a small smile in return. “Thanks.”

Now that he was back to signing, he was able to restrain himself before he could ask why she was at a magical college if she didn’t consider herself a mage. Rayla had been reserved when it came to speaking about her past before. As much as it peaked his curiosity to know that she wasn’t telling him something, he figured that she would tell him if she wanted to. She knew about his past because she _had_ to; he wanted to know about her past if she _wanted_ him to. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much. Maybe he just didn’t want to push someone who could take him out in five seconds if she was so inclined. There was always that danger, too.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Callum watched their surroundings as they passed; he’d already sketched most of the bushes from afar, but he would have loved to do a close-up, more detailed drawing of some of the fruit bushes. Or maybe those strange, three-tailed silver squirrels that seemed to be everywhere. He almost stepped on one as they made their way to Founder’s Hall, and both he and the small creature squeaked softly in alarm. Callum looked back up to find that Rayla was giving him another one of those amused looks.

“Dork,” she said.

He grinned despite himself. He would take that look over the danger-filled one she’d given him just a week prior.

_“What do you know about this Gilavor?”_ Callum asked eventually. _“Have you ever heard about him?”_

She shook her head. “I don’t usually hang out with seniors. Cressida might know about him, though. She’s probably a good place to start.”

Callum sighed and watched one of those squirrel creatures scitter over the pavement. Xadia really was quite fascinating. Too bad it was also dangerous.

“They’re called _tribuses_ ,” Rayla said suddenly. He looked back to find that she had been watching him watch the creature. “I assume that you don’t have those…where you’re from.” Her eyes flicked to the group of Sunfire elves gathered around a tree a few yards away.

Callum shook his head. _A tribus,_ he thought, watching the animals run around near the feet of the Sunfire elves. A few of the elves fed them sunberries, and the tails of the tribuses wagged happily. No wonder they were so friendly; most of the students at the college probably fed them whenever they got the chance. It was the same with squirrels in Katolis.

_“Ezran would love to learn about these,”_ he signed almost absently. It was becoming a bit more natural to sign things instead of saying them now. That was good.

“Is he good with animals?” Rayla asked, taking a left turn in the sidewalk. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

_“Thanks,”_ he told her, then thought about the question. How best to answer without making himself (or Ezran) seem crazier than he actually was? _“Let’s just say that Ezran has a…way with animals.”_

Fortunately, she didn’t seem to question that response too much. She pointed at something in the distance. “I think we’re here.”

Callum followed her finger. However, he was only able to give Founder’s Hall a cursory glance―a large, red brick building with golden and silver shingles and elaborately enameled columns―before something else captured his attention. Why was there shouting?

Rayla noticed it after a moment as well, and immediately frowned, her ears perking up in alarm. It didn’t escape his notice that her hands flinched toward her back, but he ignored it, altering his course to see what on earth was going on.

There seemed to be a small group of Sunfire elves gathered near one of the doors to the dorm, and Callum approached, he realized that their shouting was really more like jeering, and that they were not friendly in the slightest.

Talvo and several other elves (presumably the goons he called his friends) were gathered around another elf, one who was at least half their size despite the fact that he was also a Sunfire elf. Talvo and his friends tossed insults about like bakers tossed around dough, and every time the smaller Sunfire elf tried to leave, one of the thugs shoved him back into the center of the circle. Luckily, things hadn’t gotten physical yet, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize that it was quickly headed that direction. The short elf did not look pleased with his current situation.

Fortunately (at least for the bullied elf), a distraction soon came along―in the form of Rayla and Callum.

“Oh, look!” Talvo exclaimed with an arrogant smirk. “If it isn’t the git and his girlfriend.”

He and his other friends made a series of rude and inappropriate gestures meant to imitate Callum’s sign language as they turned away from the Sunfire elf in the center of their little group.

Callum wouldn’t be able to say later what made him do it. Maybe it was the simmering anger left over from his encounter with Aaravos. Maybe it was the sympathy he felt for the bullied elf―he’d been in the same position multiple times. Perhaps it was both. But the next thing he knew, his self-control snapped clean in two.

He took a big step forward, the tip of his finger already glowing with magic. Without batting an eye, he traced a symbol in the air and uttered the draconic command word “ _Aspiro!”_ and _blew._

Immediately, a gust of wind burst forward, slamming into the bullies with furious intent. They were forced backward, until their backs slammed into a starfruit tree and the fruit rained down on top of their heads.

But Callum wasn’t finished.

“My _name_ is Callum,” he spat, fists clenching angrily.

Instantly, he realized his mistake. He was supposed to be a _mute_ Skywing elf! What if word got out that he―

Talvo ran.

Talvo was running?

And so were his friends.

_What? Did_ I _do that?_

“Callum, you idiot!” Rayla hissed at him as the Sunfire elves scattered, leaving the small, bullied elf behind.

Oh. He _did_ do that.

Shit.

Callum’s eyes were wide as Rayla stepped forward, toward the sole remaining Sunfire elf. Callum cursed himself for his idiocy. He had just thrown everything away, without even thinking about it! Heat broke out across the back of his neck as he began to sweat. Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

“Hey, are you all right?” Rayla said to the short elf.

Callum forced himself to focus on reality as he stepped toward the elf. There was someone that needed help right in front of him; he could focus on how much of an idiot he had just been later.

“I’m fine,” the elf said, running a hand down his face. Up close, Callum could make out a few more details. The elf was a few inches shorter than he was, maybe two or three inches. Callum wasn’t sure what the average height was for an elf, but judging by Rayla (who was his height _without_ the horns) and the other elves, it was generally tall. The elf before him also had hair cut short, like Callum’s, where most of the elves that Callum had seen tended to grow their hair out more. The elf’s hair was a dark black color, contrasting with the short, bright gold marks that ran down his cheeks in rectangular lines. In a way, he sort of reminded Callum of Ezran, for they were both short and had chocolate-colored skin.

Rayla noticed it before Callum did. Her ears shot straight up and she uttered a small gasp, and he saw that she was staring at the elf’s ears―something that she’d called Callum out for just the previous night!

But then he understood. The Sunfire elf’s ears were shorter than hers, about Callum’s length, though they were still pointed at the end. His eyes, too, were an unusual color―a stormy gray, where most other Sunfire elves had golden eyes. But as the elf’s hands flopped back to his sides, Callum’s brain finally seized on the most important detail: this elf had five fingers.

He wasn’t an elf at all. He was a half-elf!

“Thanks,” the half-elf said, oblivious to the shocked looks that both Rayla and Callum were giving him. It was painfully apparent, now that Callum had realized what he was, that this half-elf had an accent from one of the human kingdoms. “Those elves are a bunch of jerks.”

Callum was the one to snap out of it first. He stepped forward with an elated smile―a _real_ half-elf!―and stuck out a hand for the half-elf to shake. For a moment, he paused, considering whether or not he should speak, then decided that the cat was already out of the bag. “You’re welcome. My name’s Callum, and this is Rayla.”

The half-elf shook his hand. It was a firm handshake, something that Callum appreciated. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Gil.”

Callum blinked. “Gil?”

“As in Gilavor?” Rayla finally said, leaving behind her surprise at the fact that Gil was a half-elf and replacing it with an entirely new form of surprise.

“…yes?” Gil―Gilavor said, dusting some of the dust off of his clothes. He wasn’t wearing the standard garb of a Sunfire elf, instead opting for green cotton pants and a black tunic. “Do I know you?”

Before Callum could offer up any sort of explanation, Gilavor leaned forward, squinting at his face suspiciously. Callum was about to ask what the problem was when things got worse.

“Oh my God!” Gilavor exclaimed, a very un-elf like curse. “You―you’re Callum! _The_ Callum, the one who killed Harrow!”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Shh!” Callum said, panic seeping into his bones. He slapped a hand over Gilavor’s mouth. “That’s not true! I didn’t do that!”

“By the sources, Callum!” Rayla said, stepping forward and slapping his hand away from Gilavor. “You’re _terrible_ at this!”

“I haven’t exactly had much practice!”

Gilavor peered at both of them. “What’s going on here? _He_ ―” He pointed one of his five fingers at Callum. “―is a human! But he looks like an elf!”

Rayla glanced around, eyes wide. Callum shared her concern. This _really_ was not the plan.

“Be _quiet!”_ Rayla snapped, slapping her own hand over Gilavor’s mouth.

The half-elf’s eyes were wide, but he stopped talking as much. Callum rubbed his temple, taking deep breaths.

“W-we need your help,” he stammered. “If Rayla lets you go, do you promise to _shut up?”_

Gilavor nodded. With a sigh, Rayla removed her hand and crossed her arms. Thankfully, he remained silent.

“Is there somewhere more private we can talk?” Callum said, looking around nervously. If anyone heard what they said, it was all the over. More than it already was.

“I think Sylva Field is nearby. We can talk there,” Rayla replied. She sent Gilavor a skeptical glance. “Are you willing to follow us?”

Gilavor gave them both a once-over, then shrugged. “Follow a possible murderer? Why not?”

For some reason, Callum found himself comforted by this statement.

**< |>**

They were silent all the way to Sylva Field. Callum was just glad that Gilavor hadn’t run off and tried to find the authorities yet. Miraculously, the half-elf seemed more curious than afraid.

Callum found himself wondering how Gilavor was able to recognize him. They’d never met before―Callum would have remembered meeting someone as interesting as a half-elf. It was unlikely that Gilavor had attended Katolis University as well before everything had gone to hell, for Callum _definitely_ would have heard about a half-elf at the college from his step-father. So how did Gilavor know him? And why was he willing to march to an empty field with two strangers, when one of them might be a murderer? Was he just that stupid?

Callum didn’t think so. Gilavor didn’t seem dumb; he had an intelligent way about him. Perhaps he was just confident in his own abilities. Lujanne _had_ said that he was supposed to be talented with the sun primal. Callum made sure to keep one hand on his pack at all times, just in case Gilavor could somehow sense the primal stone within.

“All right,” Gilavor said the moment his foot made contact with the grassy field. He gestured around at the empty surroundings. “You’ve lured me into your little trap. Now you’re going to convince me that _he_ —” Another pointed finger at Callum. “—isn’t the murderer that everyone in Katolis says he is, right?”

“Er, yes?” Callum gulped. He looked over at Rayla, wide-eyed. She looked displeased with both of the boys in front of her.

“How do you even know about everything the humans are saying about Callum?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

Gilavor shrugged, kicking a rock across the field. For someone who had walked into a so-called “trap,” he was awfully relaxed. “I vacation in Katolis. My mom lives there with my pops.”

It seemed true to Callum. He’d never heard any elf refer to their father as “pops.” It was, however, a common phrase in the human kingdoms.

“There are also some pretty unflattering posters of you,” Gilavor added.

Under normal circumstances, Callum might have grinned at that. As a child, he had always taken wanted posters to practice drawing human faces. His first sketchbook was full of people he had never even met in real life. But the thought of being one of those people…of one of the people that mothers warned their children away from...it didn’t do wonders for his already dour mood.

“Great,” he deadpanned, feeling a physical pang in his heart. “Like everyone back home didn’t already hate me enough.”

Rayla put a comforting hand on his shoulder, though she was still fixing Gilavor with a critical stare. “Why did you follow us here, then? Why not report us the minute you recognized Callum?”

Another shrug. “Call me curious,” Gilavor replied.

Now, Callum had always been a little slow on the uptake, but even he knew what came next.

Gilavor’s hand jerked suddenly, moving so quickly that Callum barely had time to recognize a fire-orange glyph in the air before something hard slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground.

_“Ignis!”_

_FWOOM!_

A wave of heat shot overhead as Callum’s head banged against the dirt. For a dazed moment, he could do nothing but blink as Rayla climbed off of him, leaving behind the scent of pine trees which quickly mingled with smoke. After another tumultuous heartbeat, he scrambled to his feet just in time to avoid another fireblast that slammed into the earth where his head had been a moment before.

Callum acted quickly. He traced the symbol he knew best, nearly as fast as Gilavor had traced his.

_“Aspiro!”_ he shouted, at the exact same moment that Rayla dived underneath a third fireball and swept Gilavor’s legs out from under him.

The result was almost humorous. Gilavor went _flying_ , soaring across Sylva Field until he came crashing back down to land at the other end, leaving deep divots in the soil as he eventually slowed and landed in a big pile of dirt.

_Huh,_ Callum thought, stealing a glance at Rayla as she ran ahead of him. _We make a surprisingly good team._

Gilavor was laughing by the time they reached him. It was a deep belly laugh, and it didn’t seem at all menacing for a person who had just attacked them.

It cut off when Rayla put a foot on his chest and cracked her knuckles.

“Now,” she said. “How about we try this again, but we use our words this time around?”

“Yeah,” Callum wheezed, hands on his knees. He wasn’t as fast of a runner as she was. “Violence…is not…the answer.”

Gilavor looked between them with his stormy gray eyes, and smiled.

“Excellent!” he said, lifting a hand to dust dirt out of his hair. “Now I know you’re not killers.”

Callum blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You were testing us,” Rayla realized, ears perking up in her realization. “You wanted to see if we would kill you to keep you quiet. You _let_ us win!”

Gilavor lifted his hands in a _what-can-you-do?_ gesture. After a moment, she lifted her foot―looking none too happy about it―and he groaned as he stood, shaking out his limbs and rubbing his neck.

“How are you still―” Callum gestured at Gilavor’s body, which seemed mostly unharmed by the hit that he took.

“I’m pretty tough,” Gilavor replied with a wink. “Most Sunfire elves are. I take after my pops in that respect.”

Rayla still didn’t look too impressed, her arms crossed and one of her white eyebrows raised skeptically. “What if I hadn’t pushed Callum out of the way in time? Then _you_ would have been the killer here.”

The half-elf didn’t seem too concerned by her concern. “You two seem smart. I knew _one_ of you would have gotten out of the way.”

Callum’s eye twitched. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Sure, why not?” Gilavor said, cracking his neck. “I am half-human, after all. What was it that you needed?”

Callum looked at Rayla. _Sure, why not?_ seemed to be Gilavor’s go-to response for everything. How could they know that he wouldn’t betray them?

That seemed to be the question on her mind as well. She pointed at Gilavor menacingly, her body tense, violet eyes fierce, and (not for the first time) Callum thought that he was very glad indeed to have her on his side.

“You’ve tested us to see if we were trustworthy,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “How do we know that you are?”

“Hey, you came to me,” Gilavor said, running a hand through his dark hair. “Sort of makes me think that you have no options if you came to a total stranger.”

Rayla visibly ground her teeth, but this time, it was Callum who laid a calming hand on her shoulder.

“He’s right,” he said. “We don’t really have much of a choice.” Then, to Gilavor, “We recently…discovered a few things. We could use some help figuring out what to do with it all.”

Gilavor’s ears twitched, but they didn’t have nearly the same range of movement as Rayla’s. “And you needed a half-elf for that?”

“Well. No. But…” Callum trailed off again, shooting another glance at Rayla. What he was about to do endangered her as well. She gave a reluctant nod after a moment. “We found something that Lujanne said you could help us with.”

“Lujanne?” Gilavor asked, brow furrowed, as Callum dug into his pack. “Isn’t she one of those stuffy moon ma― _woah.”_

Callum held up the sun primal stone with both hands, careful not to drop it. It seemed to glow even more in the open sunlight, radiating warmth into his palms. The light inside seemed to dance more than it had in Aaravos’s office, now that it was under the sun.

“Where did you get that?” Gilavor asked, jaw on the ground.

“It’s quite the tale,” Rayla said with a small smirk. “Let’s just say Callum forgets things everywhere. His sketchbook, his voice…”

“Okay, neither of those were my fault! Well, actually, the first one was, but not the second one! Let’s see how _you_ do when faced with an evil homicidal―”

Gilavor coughed. “Still here, guys. Still waiting for an answer.”

“Oh. Right,” Callum said, a little embarrassed at his response to Rayla’s teasing. “Sorry.”

“You may want to sit down for this,” Rayla added, still smirking just slightly. “It’s a bit of a story.”

“All right,” Gilavor said, gesturing toward the bleachers nearby. “Hit me.”

It took awhile for Callum to explain everything, but it was much easier now that he had his voice. Rayla pitched in from time to time, filling in or clarifying details that Callum left out or didn’t describe particularly well. All the while, he held the sun primal stone in his hand and tried to ignore how out in the open they were. If anyone decided to pop over to Sylva Field to fit in some extra sports practice and saw the three of them there, then the jig was up. Even if the jig was already flying high into the sky with how Callum had handled Talvo and his bullies earlier in the day. He tried not to think about that, but as soon as the story finished he couldn’t help blurting out how worried he was.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be worried at all if I were you,” Gilavor said. “Talvo acts all tough, and he’d have to admit that someone as scrawny and unintimidating as you bested him to report you.”

Callum frowned. “Uh…thanks? I guess?”

Rayla snorted. “That’s quite the accurate description.”

He glared at her. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

She shrugged in response, her ears twitching upward in her amusement. It was annoying how contagious her sense of humor was.

“Can I see the primal stone?” Gilavor asked, nodding at the sphere still clutched in Callum’s hands.

“I don’t see why not,” Callum said with a shrug. “It’s the whole reason we tried to find you, after all.”

He handed the stone over carefully, wary of what would happen if he broke it. He’d heard stories about what could happen if the pure energy in a primal stone were released, and he was not eager to be unleashing anything of the sort.

It seemed right at home in Gilavor’s hands, five fingers and all. He rolled it around in his palms, presumably feeling the heat that originated from inside the glass ball.

“You really weren’t making any of this up,” Gilavor said after a few moments, looking over at Callum with genuine sympathy on his face. “I’m sorry about your father.”

Callum almost corrected him, but didn’t. “Thanks.”

“I know it’s not the same thing, but my pops was attacked when I was just a freshman here.” Gilavor rubbed the primal stone in his hands awkwardly. “Some other elf didn’t like that he had fathered a half-elf. Injured him pretty bad. So I know how you feel, in a way.”

Callum managed to give a small smile. “I guess both our dads have been hurt by bigots.” It was a weird thing to bond over―like two war veterans getting to know each other over lost limbs.

Gilavor actually laughed at that. “Yeah, I suppose we have. Actually, that gives me an idea for what to do with this thing. Rayla, how long does the fencing team usually practice here?”

She leaned back in her seat on the bleachers. “Oh…at least until eight at night. Why?”

“Excellent. Can you both meet me back here at that time tonight?” Gilavor looked down at the primal stone in his hands. “Oh, and is it okay if I hold onto this for you?”

Callum and Rayla both shrugged.

“I mean…that’s sort of the whole reason we came looking for you,” Rayla said. “Neither of us wants it.”

“It’s probably safer with you than it is with either of us, anyhow,” Callum added helpfully.

“Great! I’ll see both of you back here at eight, then.”

_Well,_ Callum thought as Gilavor rushed off, _this will either be a wonderful idea or more trouble than it’s worth._

**< |>**

Ezran groaned with exasperation and laid flat on his bed. “No, Bait, you’re supposed to _hide_ , not flash! The whole point of the game is to _not_ get caught!”

Bait flashed red and gave him a look that was even grumpier than usual. He flicked Ezran’s hand with his tail as he climbed on top of the bed, grunting unhappily.

Ezran relented and patted the cantankerous glow toad on the head. “You’re right. There aren’t many hiding places in this room.” Then, almost to himself, “I hope Callum gets back soon.”

The day had been even more boring than usual. Ezran hadn’t heard Callum come in the night before and had been asleep when he’d left again in the morning. The only indication that his older brother had even been in the room was the ruffled sheets on his bed. It wasn’t like Callum to leave without saying goodbye first, so either he had been exhausted or he’d been dealing with something incredibly important―possibly both. It had left Ezran feeling worried, which of course meant that time just _had_ to flow slower.

He’d done what he had every day for a month so far: a few jumping jacks, a few games with Bait, and rereading a couple of books, but none of it had succeeded in taking his mind off of things. He just wanted everything to be _over_ so he could go back home and sleep in his own bed and play outside instead of being cooped up in one lousy room forever.

Ezran was so busy brooding that he almost didn’t notice the sound of the doorknob jiggling.

He sat straight up, heart pounding, as he watched the knob of the door shake up and down. Callum had a key―he wouldn’t need to try and jimmy the lock like the person on the other side of the door was clearly trying to do.

But Ezran was nothing if not a quick thinker, so he snatched Bait off the bed and dived underneath. A split second later, the door to the room swung open.

Ezran held a hand over his mouth to try and stifle his loud breathing as the heavy footsteps entered the room. He held his other hand over Bait’s back to keep him from moving around.

This was not good. Whoever this person was, they clearly had something against Callum―no one broke into another person’s room and stomped around like that if they _liked_ someone. Did they know that he wasn’t an elf?

Ezran swallowed nervously as he watched the boots pace around the room. The shoes were made of dark leather, with gold trimming. There was also a healthy layer of mud coating the bottom of the boots. As he watched, the pair of feet came to a stop in between the beds. He held his breath.

A few seconds passed. And then a few more. Then the pair of boots turned toward Callum’s bed and stepped closer to it―and away from Ezran.

He allowed himself to breathe quietly, then risked craning his neck to try and catch a better look at the person who had invaded his room.

Ezran couldn’t see much of the infiltrator; just a pair of pants that were just as expensive-looking as the boots. But he did see the stranger reach for something in their pocket―revealing hands that wore thick leather gloves also coated in mud―and place it on Callum’s bed.

A sound came from the hallway―a door opening and closing. Ezran saw the intruder tense, then heard him mutter a curse under his breath. The boots moved quickly away, and the door slammed shut behind him.

Ezran forced himself to wait for a minute or two before he moved, wiggling out from underneath the bed frantically. Bait crawled after him, grunting out a series of words that Ezran wished his brain wouldn’t have translated. His mother would have washed his mouth out with soap if he’d said any of those words aloud.

Ezran scrambled to his feet, turning to Callum’s bed with a large book in hand just in case the person came back. What he found resting on top of Callum’s sheets, however, made him pause.

It was small, maybe only the size of a gold coin from Katolis, and completely spherical in shape. It was light green, like a leaf, and had the texture of snakeskin. It also stank of sulfur, and was shaking just slightly. As Ezran squinted at it, there was a _smack_ sound from inside of it, and a large fissure appeared as it threatened to roll off the bed.

It was an egg. And it was cracking open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently, knocking back the dumb bitch juice gives +2 to courage
> 
> Yah so this chapter was originally twice as long, but I had to split it up for my own sanity. That's sort of why the so-called cliff-hanger here is not my favorite. But I digress. Also, Gilavor is my child and there's nothing you can do about it (hahaha I'm the author, I can do what I want). 
> 
> (and, i...made a twitter? i have a grand total of three followers, so if any of y'all like dumb tweets about tdp come hmu. it's @noname4hire_ao3 and i'm a loser?)


	10. A Promise and a Tutor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You...named it Virgil?"

Rayla sighed as she climbed the stairs to the third floor, rubbing the back of her neck. “That was…interesting.”

Callum looked around to make sure no one else was present before he spoke. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

She could tell that neither of them had quite been expecting Gilavor to be…the way he was. In all honesty, Rayla had expected another stuffy mage who spoke in a monotone voice and spouted off information every chance they got―much like many of the professors that she had. Gilavor was…quite the opposite.

She sighed again as they reached the third landing. This would be the first time that Callum would interact with his brother with a voice in months, according to him, but he still wanted her help in relaying the events of the previous night to his little brother. Rayla thought she understood; it was still a lot to process, even now. Besides, she liked the wee human. He possessed a childlike innocence that she hadn’t had for many, many years.

“Well,” Callum added in that cheerful way of his, “at least we found someone to hold onto the primal stone for us!”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even  _ know _ how to be pessimistic?”

He gasped dramatically and made an offended face, even though the slight grin peeking up at the corners of his mouth made it clear he was not offended in the slightest. “Pessimistic? _Me?_ _Never._ ”

“Dweeb.”

“Jerk.”

She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped from her mouth. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Callum’s face reddened, but he still sent her another one of those adora― _ annoying _ little grins. “Oh, to Ezran it’s the height of insults. There’s even a ‘jerkface dance.’”

Rayla smirked. “I’d like to see that.”

His blush only worsened, darkening the human skin under the illusion covering his face. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he groaned, smacking a hand over his eyes as they reached the door to his room. “But no. You can’t see it. Family members only, thank heavens.”

He came to a stop in front of his dorm room, momentarily searching his pockets for his keys. Rayla rolled her eyes once more―only to realize that something was amiss.

“Uh, Callum? Should your door be open like that?”

_ “What?” _

Callum stopped what he was doing to peer at the door, his panic all too palpable. Sure enough, the door to the room was slightly ajar, just barely recognizable in the hallway’s dim lighting. 

They shared a worried look. Ezran hadn’t left, had he? Rayla didn’t think so. Even though she had only met the boy three times before, he seemed far too level-headed to attempt something like that. There could only be one explanation: someone had gotten inside the room.

Callum reacted first, shoving open the door to his room with one hand glowing, ready to perform some sort of spell―not that it would have been very effective, considering that there was no breeze indoors. Rayla followed immediately after him, fists raised in a loose ready position. If there was any danger in the room, they wouldn’t be much of a defense for Ezran; Callum was a mage without access to his primal source, and Rayla was a warrior without access to her weapons.

And there was danger indeed inside the room. Rayla took in the situation quickly, as Runaan had trained her to do. There was no sign of a struggle inside the room, no mysterious intruder to fight. In fact, Ezran himself was standing smack dab in the center of the dorm, smiling down at something in front of him.

The back of her neck pulsed with heat as she realized what was in front of him, sitting on Callum’s bed like it was waiting for him.

“Ezran, get away from that!” she hissed, taking two giant steps forward to get in between the child and the snake on the bed.

The snake stared her down, displeasure in its serpentine eyes as she held a hand out to keep Ezran back. It was about the length of a pencil and had the width of a shoe string. Its scales were a light green and a dark black, and two pairs of yellow eyes glared back at her. Rayla felt a chill as she locked eyes with the creature. This wasn’t just any ordinary snake. This was a Venomgrowth snake, the most poisonous creature known to man or elf. Judging from the shattered remains of an egg nearby, it must have just hatched, but that didn’t mean it was any less deadly. Thanks to the powerful magic that flowed through the serpent’s veins, it would grow in its fangs in a matter of minutes.

Callum yelped when he saw it, snatching a thick textbook from off the dresser next to him and stepping closer to squash it. However, it was Ezran who stopped him.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, stepping out from behind Rayla to put himself between the snake and the two others present. “Don’t hurt him!”

Rayla blinked, and looked over at Callum, who looked just as surprised as she felt. After a moment, he reluctantly lowered the book. “Ezran, what are you talking about?”

Ezran’s eyes bugged out of his head as he looked over at Callum. “When did you get your voice back?  _ How  _ did you get your voice back?”

Callum looked behind him and firmly shut the open door to the room. “It’s a long story. But would you mind telling us why there is a  _ snake _ on my  _ bed? _ ”

Ezran didn’t seem pleased about being forced to wait to get answers, but Rayla was still trying to figure out a way to get the snake away from him without getting bitten. She wasn’t sure how long ago the Venomgrowth snake had hatched, but she didn’t want to take the chance of getting poisoned.

“His name is Virgil,” Ezran stated, crossing his arms, completely nonplussed by the snake next to him on the bed.

“You…named it Virgil?” Callum said, frowning over at the snake.

“No, silly, he named itself!” 

“Oh, right. Of course. How silly of me.”

“ _ WHAT _ in the name of the _ six primal sources  _ is going on?!” Rayla demanded, looking between the two dumb humans in front of her and the  _ incredibly dangerous snake _ that was just sitting on the bed, watching it all like some badly scripted play.

“Oh,” Ezran said, as if realizing for the first time that she was present. He sent her a childish grin and gestured to “Virgil,” who was still sitting calmly on the bed. “This is my new friend Virgil. I can talk to animals.”

Rayla froze. “You can  _ what?!” _ She must have blown a blood vessel in her brain as she ascended the stairs five minutes ago. She couldn’t have heard that right.

But Callum’s face―which was now completely relaxed, as if this were something that happened every day―only seemed to confirm his younger brother’s words.

He sighed and placed the book back on the dresser. “He can talk to animals. He’s been able to since we were kids.” Callum stared at the snake on his bed. “Ezran, is he going to play nice?”

Ezran rubbed the snake’s head with a finger before she could tell him not to, then turned back to them. “Yeah, he’s all right.”

Rayla’s eye twitched. This was  _ crazy.  _ This was  _ insane _ , and  _ crazy,  _ and―

―and the snake was just sitting on the bed, watching them, and hadn’t made any hostile moves. Runaan had always told her that juvenile Venomgrowth snakes either ran away from danger or attempted to attack it, even if they still didn’t have their fangs. Yet this snake―Virgil―was almost waiting for them to finish up. There was no possible explanation for that…unless Ezran was telling the truth.

Eventually she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “You humans sure are something else.”

Both humans grinned at that. Even Virgil looked up at her, and this time there was something other than malice in his yellow eyes―almost like amusement.

Who knew? Deadly snakes had a sense of humor. She would be sure to send a letter telling that to Runaan.

Callum looked at the snake and cocked his head at it, eyeing the destroyed egg that sat on his bed. “Ez, how did this thing get in here?” He cocked his eyebrow at the younger boy. “You haven’t left the room at all, have you?”

Ezran shook his head as Rayla sat on his bed, as far away from “Virgil” as possible. “No! It was so scary, Callum, I thought someone had figured out that you weren’t an elf!”

Callum’s face darkened. “Was there someone else here? Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine,” Ezran said, shaking his head. “Bait and I hid under the bed. Whoever it was didn’t see us. All they did was put Virgil’s egg on the bed.”

There was a croak from under the bed as confirmation of what Ezran said. Rayla leaned over and saw Bait underneath the cot, glowing purple.

She tucked her feet underneath her out of respect for the ugly glow toad. “What did they look like? Did you see?”

Ezran shook his head again, scratching Virgil under the chin. Under the bed, Bait grunted jealously. “All I saw was a pair of pants and boots.”

Callum gulped as he leaned against the wall, staring over at the Venomgrowth snake waiting patiently on his bed. “So whoever it was, they clearly meant for…Virgil over there to get rid of me.”

Rayla crossed her arms. “Aaravos.”

Ezran gave her a confused look as he sat on Callum’s bed, next to Virgil. She still wasn’t comfortable with having the boy that close to a dangerous creature, but he seemed to have it well and under control. “Isn’t that one of Callum’s professors?”

“Yeah,” Callum said, voice tight. “He’s also working with Viren, and he had my voice in one of the boxes in his office.”

Ezran’s jaw landed in his lap. “He―he’s working with Viren?”

Callum’s expression softened. Carefully, he crossed the room and set next to his brother―on the other side of the snake―and put an arm around Ezran’s shoulders. “Hey,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Aaravos doesn’t know about you, which means that he’s underestimating all three of us. He thought that Virgil―” He nodded over at the snake. “―would get rid of me. But I’m fine, which means that  _ we’ll _ be fine.”

Rayla couldn’t help but watch with a small smile on her face as the brothers interacted. Callum was a good brother, and a good person, from what she could tell. For what seemed like the hundredth time, she wondered how she ever thought Callum was a threat to anyone at the university. But for the first time, she caught herself wondering if most humans were like him.

“But how did Aaravos get in here?” Callum asked, drawing her attention away from her mind’s wanderings. “Wouldn’t it draw attention to have a professor strolling into the dorms like that?”

Rayla chewed on her lip as she thought. Next to Ezran, Virgil stared at her. It was becoming disconcerting.

“Aaravos probably paid off another student to do it for him,” she eventually concluded. “Someone who isn’t too fond of you.”

Callum groaned, sitting back on the bed until his head touched the wall. “Talvo.”

“Talvo?” Ezran asked, looking between the two with a confused look on his face. “Who’s Talvo?”

“Just some bully,” Callum replied, still staring up at the ceiling. “A bully who apparently doesn’t care whether I live or die.”

“Ugh,” Rayla spat, massaging her knuckles. “If I ever get my hands on that good-for-nothing Sunfire elf, I swear…”

Callum sat back up, grinning. “I knew you cared.”

She did her best to ignore him, but couldn’t help the heat that was probably spreading to her ears. Stupid human.

“I think our biggest concern should be what we’re going to do with this wee snake,” she carefully commented, making sure not to insult the creature currently curled into a ball next to Ezran. Beneath the bed she sat on, Bait rumbled his agreement.

“Aw, do we have to?” Ezran asked, looking over at Callum with a sad look on his face.

Callum laughed. “Are you asking me if we can keep a poisonous snake that was specifically put in this room to kill me?”

Virgil hissed, and as one Callum and Rayla flinched away. Ezran, on the other hand, grinned at the small snake and patted it once more on the head. He turned back to them with a sigh.

“All right,” the boy said. “But where would he go?”

“Brutum Forest,” Rayla said immediately. “He’ll be right at home there.”

Callum visibly gulped. “Well, wouldn’t that mean that we have to go  _ into  _ the forest? Like, with our legs?”

She shot him an unimpressed look. “Yes, Callum, you typically walk somewhere with your legs.”

He shot her a glare. “Really? I  _ never _ would have guessed.”

Rayla sighed. “We don’t have to go  _ in _ the forest. We just have to…go near it. Hopefully the little bugger will crawl right in, and we’ll―Ezran could you  _ please _ keep that thing on a leash?!”

She couldn’t resist another flinch as Virgil hissed and lurched forward again. Clearly, the Venomgrowth snake was not pleased by her less than flattering opinion of him. The feeling was mutual.

“Virgil, behave,” Ezran ordered the small serpent. Then, to her, “I’m coming with you.”

“Oh, no yer not,” Rayla exclaimed at the same time that Callum cried, “You’re staying put, Ezran!”

The two shared a look of agreement, but Ezran crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Who’s going to carry him?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at them in a very Callum-like way. “You two? And how are you going to get him to go into the forest?”

A moment of silence. Callum and Rayla shared another look, but it was Callum who budged first.

“You wear the biggest cloak I have,” Callum said, frowning deeply and fixing his younger brother with a disapproving stare. “And mittens. And―”

“―and we find something to paint your face with,” Rayla finished, crossing her arms. “You’re just lucky  _ I  _ was the one who found you walking around campus last time. You shouldn’t take any chances this time around.”

Ezran sat back against the wall, rolling his eyes and sighing in a very teenager-like fashion. “Fine.”

“And Bait stays here,” Callum added. “Not a lot of elves here have glow toads.”

“Oh, come on!”

**< |>**

It took some doing, but eventually they managed to configure Ezran to look like a short Sunfire elf. With his hood up, it was possible that he could pass for Gilavor―they were the same height, after all. In fact, Rayla fully intended on using that excuse if anyone asked any questions about Ezran.

Whenever anyone passed by, Ezran would huddle between Callum and Rayla, who walked on either side of him like two bodyguards. It was strange to see Callum glare at anyone who gave Ezran a weird look, for it was usually  _ her _ who was the abrasive one, from what she could tell so far. On the other hand, it was comforting to know that they had one more thing in common: neither one of them was willing to let Ezran get hurt. Rayla didn’t really know the boy, but she would rather take a firebolt to the gut than let an innocent child get hurt.

“So,” Rayla said in an undertone to the boy. “When did you learn that you could talk to animals?”

Ezran looked back up at her, eyes sparkling in excitement. The golden sunberry she’d used on his face only served to heighten the effect. “You really want to know?”

She smiled down at him. What a precious kid. “I asked, didn’t I?”

Next to Ezran, Callum chuckled, a smile on his face as two Skywing elves passed them.  _ “You shouldn’t have asked that,” _ he signed at her.

“Well, it all started when I was six, and there was this snail that would sit on the windowsill of the room that Callum and I shared. It would always try to find its way inside the room because our bedroom was on the second floor of our house and it was always cold up there, so I felt bad for it. So one day I opened the window for it and it was so grateful that it told me so, and I didn’t think anything of it until Callum asked me why I was talking to a snail. I got really scared for a second and told him that I was just thinking about snail armor, but he told me that snails already  _ have _ armor. After that, I realized that I was able to communicate with animals really easily.”

Rayla blinked. Callum barked out a laugh.

“I told you,” he whispered, smiling as he patted Ezran on the head. “He loves animals.”

Ezran nodded vigorously in agreement. Hidden in his hands, Virgil peeked out and hissed, as if to further confirm his words. If Rayla looked closely enough, she could see the hint of fangs in the snake’s mouth. On some level, it disturbed her deeply to have a thirteen-year-old carrying one of the deadliest creatures in the world. On another, she knew that the boy was perfectly capable of getting the snake to behave. He’d done well so far. They’d even managed to make it to Sylva Field without any major incidents. 

“Wow, this place is huge!” Ezran exclaimed with a grin, running ahead of them to look at the empty field before them.

“Huh,” Rayla chuckled. “He’s even more curious than you are. I didn’t think that was even possible.”

She started to walk forward, but stopped when Callum put a hand on her shoulder. When she looked back, she found that he was looking at her with green eyes full of gratitude―and a hint of something else that confused her.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her.

Rayla frowned, now even more confused. “For what?”

Callum looked over at Ezran, who was gaping over at the scarred practice dummies in awe. “You stepped between Ez and danger. There wasn’t any guarantee that Virgil wouldn’t bite you. I just…” He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck as he looked back at her. There was another blush spreading across his face, not lining up with the illusion face markings on his cheeks. “Thank you for protecting my brother. And me.”

“Oh.” For some reason, that made her feel awkward. And it made her ears light up like lanterns. “Uh, you’re welcome.” But it also felt good. In a weird way, of course.

“Are you guys coming?” Ezran asked, looking back at them.

Virgil peaked out at them and hissed.

Rayla sighed, her shoulders slumping. “You know, I didn’t like Venomgrowth snakes before, but now I really can’t stand them.”

Callum snorted. “That’s nothing. When we were little, I’d always have animals stealing my clothes. Never knew why until a few years ago.”

She snorted. “Think he’ll do it now if I ask nicely?”

He glared at her. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, Ezran?”

Ezran turned, grinning. Clearly she could hear their conversation. But before anyone could say anything, Virgil squirmed out of the boy’s hand and onto the dirt, slithering quickly in the direction of the forest.

“What’s up with him?” Callum asked, striding forward to stand at his brother’s side. “Did you squeeze him too hard, or something?”

“What? No!” Ezran frowned. “He said something about the smell and rushed off.”

“Oh,” Rayla said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I wonder…that could mean there are more of them in that forest.”

“There could  _ what?” _

She looked around, her heartbeat only calming when she realized that there was no one else around to hear Callum’s exclamation. “Keep your voice down!”

Another glare from him. That was becoming quite common. But he did lower his voice as he said, “There are  _ more _ of them in there?”

Rayla thought about that for a moment, watching Virgil try his best to squirm toward the forest. He was still pretty small, and unable to slither quickly. “Not many, I don’t think. Do you have a lot of Venomgrowth snakes in Katolis?”

Callum shook his head. “We’ve heard about them, but they’re pretty rare.”

She made a face. “That’s probably a good thing. A full grown Venomgrowth snake is about as tall as the dining hall.”

“Cool!” Ezran exclaimed, nearly covering up the horrified sound that Callum made next to him. 

Rayla snorted at Callum’s face. He looked like he had just been force-fed a lemon. She could tell he was already imagining Virgil towering over the dining hall and had to hold back another laugh.

Eventually, he sighed and ran a hand through his already quite messy hair. “Well,” he said after a moment, his shoulders slumping, “at least that part is finally over.”

“Yeah,” she replied with a sigh of her own. “Now we just have to figure out how to survive that crazy teacher Aaravos and avoid any more death-traps. Yay!” 

Callum rolled his eyes, but he did glance over at Ezran, who was thankfully out of earshot as he examined the strange trees. “Ezran, don’t get too close, okay?” Then, to Rayla, “Just let me have this, okay? It’s not everyday you avoid a trap planted by a bully that was intended to kill you.”

Rayla chuckled, watching Ezran work his way back to them. “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right.”

“Thank you.” Callum absent-mindedly handed out a hand for a high-four. When she didn’t return it right away, his brow furrowed as he looked back at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” she started, staring at his palm. If she squinted hard enough, she thought she could make out a fifth finger on his hand. After a moment, she realized that she wasn’t imagining it―there really was a pinky finger on his hand, and she could see it as clearly as she could see the rest of his hand. When she looked beyond his hand and at his face, she could see his illusion wavering, making his face markings and horns shimmer in the light of the sun, revealing his  _ human  _ face and  _ human  _ ears.

“Uh…Callum?” Rayla started carefully, trying to keep her concern and slight panic out of her voice. “Is your face… _ supposed  _ to look like that?”

He frowned at her. “Well, that’s sort of rude.”

“No, I mean…Callum! Just look at yourself, you dumb human!”

His frown deepened, but his facial features quickly became more panicked as he looked down at himself and discovered that his illusion was flickering. Oddly, the damage wasn’t complete; the illusion was still there, just shimmery and distorted. 

“Callum!” Ezran exclaimed, eyes wide as he finally caught up with them. “You―”

“I know!” Callum interrupted, eyes moving around frantically as if trying to find something. Finally, his green orbs landed on the sun, and he sighed, running a now five-fingered hand down his face. “Darn. It’s the sun.”

“I don’t get it,” Rayla said, her ears practically pinned to the side of her head. She made sure to keep glancing around just in case anyone should happen onto the field.

“The sun,” Callum repeated calmly, a stark contrast to before. “Lujanne told me that when the sun is at high noon, it’s brightest, and so it’s easier for the sunlight to pierce the illusion, especially if I haven’t charged it in a few days.”

Rayla couldn’t help a small smile. As he spoke, that same sort of scholarly excitement had crept back into his voice, the same kind that she had quickly grown used to in just a matter of days. She was actually sort of glad it was there, because she had missed out on hearing it when he was voiceless. He always had that whenever he spoke about magic, and it was…adorable, for lack of a better word. And sort of amusing, to be honest. But she had more important things to worry about.

“How are we supposed to get you back to the dorm, then?” she demanded, gesturing to Callum’s face, which was clearly taking on its human form.

His dumb smile morphed into a frown. “Oh. Right.”

Ezran started to take off his cloak. “Here, you can―”

“No!” Callum and Rayla exclaimed at the same time. Callum stepped forward and shoved the cloak’s hood back onto his brother’s head.

“We can just wait for the clouds to roll back in,” Rayla said, crossing her arms. “There’s no need to risk the life of  _ two _ humans, especially not a wee one like yourself.”

Ezran grinned at the word  _ wee. _ Rayla did her best to ignore her embarrassment.

“Rayla’s right,” Callum said, his voice determined as he looked down at his little brother. “This usually isn’t a problem for me. I can just wait until there’s some cloud cover and sneak back to the dorm that way. But I won’t have you risking your life just because my disguise is acting a little wonky.” He nodded to himself as if he had just made some sort of decision. “I’ll stay here. Rayla, can you take Ezran back to the dorm while I wait for some clouds to appear?” He glanced up at the sky, where all of the nearby clouds from just a few minutes beforehand had drifted far away. He sighed. “It might take a while.”

For a moment, Rayla had to marvel at the sudden change in her friend. He had turned from a stammering, awkward dweeb into a protective older brother in just a few moments. It made her respect for the dork grow. Rayla always had admired people who cared for their family.

It took her another moment to realize that he had addressed her directly and their conversation required a response.

“Yeah,” she said, squaring her shoulders and sending a smile to the two brothers. “Yeah, I can do that. Come along, Ezran. I’m sure your brother will be fine so long as he  _ stays hidden.” _

Callum winced at the not-so-hidden instruction. “Yes, ma’am.” He saluted with his five-fingered hand. Seriously, what use did the fifth finger even serve?

Rayla put a hand on Ezran’s back and turned the thirteen-year-old back toward the rest of the college, trying to mask the churning feeling in her gut. It was a miracle that Callum hadn’t gotten caught yet, with such an obvious flaw in the illusion keeping him safe. Then again, he  _ did  _ say that something like this didn’t happen often, and it only happened when he hadn’t charged his tattoo in a few days.

Moons above. She was a terrible illusion student, wasn’t she? She hardly even knew how any of this worked. She had to wonder how she was even passing her classes.

“So…” she started, looking down at the boy walking beside her. He was cocking his head at a pair of tribuses, who scurried away after a moment, on some secret errand. “Is there anything else about that tattoo on your brother’s back that I should know about?” She tried her best to keep her voice casual, like she wasn’t fishing for information on a subject she should know plenty about.

“Oh,” Ezran said, like he was thinking about it. It was hard to see his face with the deep hood he was wearing, which Rayla supposed was a good thing. There weren’t many other elves around, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “Uh…I’m not sure? I mean, the only thing I really remember is Callum not letting me get one too.”

Rayla nodded as they turned the corner of the sidewalk. She had to step over the dropped starfruit on the ground, and then kick it out of the way to make sure that the boy behind her didn’t trip on it either. “Callum did mention that it hurt a lot. I’m sure your brother didn’t want you get hurt.”

“Yeah, Callum’s a good brother,” Ezran said, looking up at her with a bright smile on his face. It dimmed after a moment. “I’m glad you’re his friend. He’s had a hard time since…what happened.”

Rayla felt her ears twitch downwards. Despite the fact that she didn’t know Ezran very well, it felt wrong to see that smile on his face become lesser. Childlike innocence was a valuable commodity, and she hated seeing how Ezran’s had been diminished. No one should ever have to lose a parent at a young age―and she should know better than anyone. 

“I’m really sorry about your dad,” she told him, doing her best to keep her accent and her facial expressions in check as several elves passed by. She made sure to walk in front of Ezran just in case any of them should happen to glance at the boy. When they were gone, she continued. “I’m really sorry that this ‘Viren’ fellow took him from you.”

She heard a sniffle from under the cloak and immediately felt even worse. She hadn’t meant to make him more upset! She just―

“Thank you,” Ezran said, wiping his nose on the back of his mittens. “It’s harder when you can’t talk about it.”

Rayla sighed, feeling warm sympathy pool in her gut. She’d seen a bit of how what had happened had affected Callum, of course, and her heart went out to him because she knew how he felt. But it was another thing to see how it affected a younger boy.

She felt her blood pressure spike suddenly at the injustice of it all. Regardless of the fact that both of the brothers were humans―a fact that was becoming more and more irrelevant, in her mind, surprisingly―the injustice of the whole situation made her want to put her swords to good use over in Katolis. She kept the impulse firmly under control. Runaan had always said that a strong sense of justice was not a bad thing, but she knew from hard experience that it could quickly morph into something uglier if given the chance.

“Well, now you have someone else to talk about it with,” Rayla offered to the boy beside her, trying to bring her focus back to the task at hand. When Ezran grinned up at her in a way that reminded her of Callum’s smile yet was still his own, she couldn’t resist the urge to ruffle his hair through the hood a little bit, an affectionate gesture she had learned from Runaan. She remembered having her hair mussed up an infinite number of times as she grew up.

Ezran giggled, and she returned his grin. “Thanks, Rayla.”

“You’re welcome,” Rayla said, nodding to herself. She was regretting meeting these strange humans less and less the more she got to know them.

They walked in silence for a little bit, mostly because they had passed into the center of campus, unavoidable and densely populated. Luckily, Rayla had experience in remaining unseen even in public places, and she guided Ezran forward carefully, glaring at anyone who got too close or gave too suspicious of a glance. It was only once they were out of the center and closer to Blossom Hall that Rayla realized Ezran’s silence was due to something else.

When she looked over on him, she saw that his lips were pursed and he seemed to be thinking seriously about something. Once again, she couldn’t help but notice the similarities to Callum’s expressions, though there were a few differences. It was actually easier to keep track without ears that wiggled with emotion.

“I’m worried about Callum,” Ezran eventually said in a meek voice, glancing around to make sure that no one was listening as they approached the dormitory. When Rayla furrowed her brow and looked him over, he continued. “He mutters stuff in his sleep.” A pause. “Stuff about Viren. Callum was there when…when it happened.”

_ Oh. _

A mixture of something ugly and something strangely warm stirred in her chest. No wonder Callum had been so anxious and angry when he had heard Viren’s voice―he’d  _ watched _ that monster use dark magic to murder his step-father. He’d  _ seen _ the blood and the violence first hand, and had been the one to come out with more mental scars than physical.

He was like her.

Almost immediately, Rayla shook that thought from her head and focused instead on the boy in front of her. Ezran was indeed obviously worried, wringing his covered hands together so violently that his mittens were in danger of coming off. Her heart went out to him; the boy was only thirteen, and couldn’t talk to anyone but his brother about what had happened. While Callum and Ezran had shared trauma, it was also healthy to get a fresh perspective.

“Listen,” Rayla said, crouching down in front of Ezran, one hand on his shoulder. They were in the shadow of a starfruit tree, so she made sure to stare Ezran in the face. “I’ll look after your brother. You have my word.”

Ezran’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

She nodded, smiling a little at the boy’s earnestness. “I promise. If he gets into anything stupid, which he probably will―” A laugh from the boy. “―I’ll be there to try and talk him out of it. And if he needs help with…whatever it is that you’re both dealing with, I’ll be there too. Same as I will be for you, got it?”

His grin was the widest yet. “Thanks, Rayla!”

She flinched when he wrapped his arms around her neck in a tight hug, then smiled and returned it. After a minute, she released him and stood, gesturing at the dormitory not too far away.

“All right,” she said. “How about we get you back to your room before Callum has a heart attack, all right?”

Ezran nodded. “Okay.”

She chuckled as they resumed their walk to the dorm, but couldn’t help her thoughts returning to the boy’s older brother, waiting all the way across campus. 

How was Callum so… _ him _ , after what had happened? Sure, he was clearly grieving, but he was also dorky and intelligent and oddly charming, in a human-ish way. Her wandering and traitorous thoughts couldn’t help wondering if he was like that before the murder, or if it was a byproduct.

She wondered how his voice still carried that dorky excitement after his eyes had witnessed horrors.

She wondered how he did it.

And the last thought in her head, before she managed to shake off the cloud of distraction around her was,  _ maybe we’re not so different after all. _

**< |>**

Fencing practice ended early that night, which meant Rayla had just enough time to change out of her sweaty clothes in her dorm room before she had to hike all the way back to the field―although this time, she had real swords with her, not the replicas they used in practice. As Runaan would have said, it was better to be paranoid than dead.

Still, she didn’t think all the paranoia in the world could have prepared her for the sight she witnessed as she stepped onto the field. The  _ shirtless, pale,  _ and  _ human _ sort of sight.

Rayla immediately averted her eyes, opting to stare at the metal bleachers nearby instead of the bare skin of her human companion out of respect for her friend. Of all the things she had been expecting, seeing Callum shirtless again was  _ not _ one of them. She hated seeing  _ anyone _ shirtless―most males nowadays used it as a form of boasting, which she despised. And sure, she’d seen Callum without a shirt before, but she’d sort of been too distracted by the fact that he was a  _ human _ to really feel flummoxed by it. 

“Hey, Rayla!” Gilavor’s voice came.

She sighed and looked over at the half-elf, who held the primal stone in one hand and a bottle of sunberry juice in the other, both of which glowed in the darkness. Gilavor had changed into darker clothes than before, probably so he wouldn’t be spotted sneaking to the field.

Callum peered out from behind Gilavor, looking enthusiastic. “Rayla! I hope you don’t mind if I recharge my tattoo while we’re out here? I figured it could probably use it after what happened today.”

_ Ah. _ She should have figured it was something like that. Callum wasn’t the boasting type; he even seemed uncomfortable without his shirt on.

It was strange to see him in his human form again after spending so much time around the illusion that usually covered him. Oddly, though, he looked a bit more  _ natural _ as a human, more like himself. His rounded ears and lack of facial markings or wings seemed to suit him. Rayla decided, somewhere in the back of her brain, that she liked him better as a human.

She nodded after a moment. “Sure, do what you want.” She frowned at Gilavor. “So what did you call us out here for?” She still didn’t trust the half-elf. They had come to him because they had no other choice or recommendations. But he had no reason that he had really shared for helping them, other than the fact that he was part human and his father had been injured a while ago.

“I was actually just getting to that before you arrived,” Gilavor said, popping the cork off of the bottle with his thumb and taking a swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he continued, lifting up the primal stone in his other hand as he spoke. “You two told me that this Aaravos fellow is going to be looking for this primal stone. Letting me hide it and all is great, but I think there’s another option that’s been staring both of you right in the face.”

Rayla crossed her arms as Callum stepped out from behind Gilavor, frowning. 

“And what would that be?” Rayla asked, stubbornly gritting her teeth and looking only at Gilavor.

The half-elf shrugged, turning to point at Callum, who seemed confused by the direction the conversation was taking. “I teach him how to use the primal stone.”

Silence for about three seconds. Then Callum’s face split into a huge grin.

“Really?” he said, his eyes lit up with that weird, dorky excitement again. “Because I’ve been studying the sun primal in my classes, and it’s actually quite fascina―”

“Hold on,” Rayla interrupted, arms still crossed and eyes narrowed at Gilavor. For a split second, she felt bad for interrupting her friend, for he looked rather like a kicked puppy. She forced herself to continue, for safety’s sake. “Why would you teach Callum?”

Again, Gilavor shrugged. “Think about it. The more people who know how to use the primal stone, or the sun primal, the harder it will be for Aaravos or any goons he could hire to take it from us. Besides, if Callum can use two different types of magic, even temporarily, it could give us an edge.”

Rayla chewed on her lower lip as she considered the logic of the idea, which didn’t seem to be faulty at all. Besides, Callum needed to learn to defend himself if she was going to keep her promise to Ezran, and the human had looked so excited about learning magic that she couldn’t deny his stupid dweeb brain that.

“Fine,” she eventually said, sighing once more. “But…be careful, all right? The last thing we need is the charred remains of a human to explain to Headmaster Pharon.”

Callum’s grin returned in full force, this time directed at her. “Thanks!”

For a moment, it struck her as odd that both she and Callum had considered the prospect of learning more magic something that she alone could deny or wave forward. Did she really hold that much respect in his eyes? Or was it fear?

Callum turned to Gilavor, still grinning like a child given a new toy for their birthday. “What’s first?” The human was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was quite amusing, actually.

“Well,” Gilavor said, scratching the back of his neck. When he looked back up at Callum, he had a positively mischievous look on his face. “The first lesson is this.”

Oh, Rayla had a really bad feeling about this, even before the half-elf spoke his next words.

“Try not to get burned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIIIIIVE! Sorry that took so long, guys. I was really busy with summer camps (ugh) and had some hardcore writer's block for a hot minute there. BUT I tried super hard to get this one done for you guys! Please enjoy!  
> (again, this is one of those chapters I had to split up)


	11. Remedium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm glad to see you could make it to class," Aaravos purred. "Suffering from a sore throat, Callum?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um? Slight trigger warning? There's this one part that describes an injury and it might be gross for some of y'all. Sorry?

Callum was ecstatic. He was finally learning to do another type of magic, for real this time, which was the part of the reason he and Ezran had risked coming to Xadia in the first place. Not only that, but he was learning about the _sun_ primal, which, he’d learned in his studies, was actually quite fascinating in its duality. 

He must have had something strange on his face, for when he turned to Rayla, grinning, she rolled her eyes, the tips of her mouth and her ears tilting up. When she turned away, to the self-assigned task of look-out, he thought he heard her mutter something suspiciously like “dork.”

“All right,” Gilavor said, rolling up the sleeves of his black tunic. The primal stone glowed in his hands. “First things first. You know how to trace a symbol, so I won’t bore you with those details. Just make sure that when you do it, you’re drawing power from the primal stone and not the arcanum you’re already connected to.”

Huh. It _sounded_ simple enough. However, Callum knew from hard experience that using magic was always harder than it seemed at first glance.

“Let me show you a symbol,” Gilavor said. “You might recognize it. Then we’ll see if you can differentiate between arcanums and we can go from there.”

Callum blinked. Gilavor’s “slacker” attitude had vanished quickly, replaced with that of a firm tutor. Callum could help but wonder if Gilavor had done this before, or if he was imitating the tutor _he_ had had.

He didn’t think on it much further, busy watching Gilavor’s fingers intensely as he slowly drew a rune in the air with two fingers. 

“More talented mages can draw runes quickly by using more than just their fingers to trace symbols,” Gilavor lectured as he frowned in concentration. “Personally, I find it harder to trace it with only the fingers. It takes more concentration.”

Callum was hardly paying attention to him, trying to focus on the golden rune that had appeared in the air. Gilavor had been right: Callum _did_ recognize it. This was the same rune that Gilavor had used to attack him earlier in the day.

It sort of resembled four tongues of flame, suspended in the air. Two large, V-like shapes made up the spine of the shape, with two smaller marks in between. It hurt Callum’s eyes to look at it too long in the dark, but he did it anyway.

“Huh,” Callum said, staring at the rune. It glowed brightly against the night, pulsing with warm energy. Immediately, he roamed his eyes over the magical symbol, searing it into his brain as fast as he could. If there was one thing he knew about himself, it was that he had a pretty good memory when it came to shapes and symbols. It was very useful when it came to art.

“ _Ignis,”_ Gilavor whispered to the rune.

Immediately, a small fireball appeared in Gilavor’s hand, much smaller than the one he had summoned that afternoon. As soon as it formed in his palm, the half-elf chucked it right at one of the practice dummies across the field.

For a moment, Callum had the absurd idea that the fireball was just like any other round object, and that it would fall back to the ground before it could reach the practice dummies. Then he remembered that he was dealing with _magic._ Nonetheless, the sight of the small fireball zooming across the field to crash into one of the wooden dummies left his jaw in the grass.

“That’s―so _cool!”_ he exclaimed, probably grinning like a maniac.

“I’m glad you appreciate my traits,” Gilavor said, his relaxed side coming back into view for a moment as he dusted an invisible speck of dust off the primal stone. “Do you need me to draw the rune again? Sometimes they can be hard to―”

“No, I’ve got it,” Callum interrupted, eager to try his hand at some new magic.

Gilavor frowned. “Are you sure? I only showed you once, and―”

“I’m sure.”

“Um, all right. Hold this, then.” Gilavor held out the primal stone with both hands. Hesitantly, Callum took it from him, feeling the warmth of the magic inside on his palms. 

“Now what?” he asked, looking over at the half-elf.

“Now you just…” Gilavor gestured with his hands in what Callum assumed was supposed to be an imitation of magic.

“Oh. Right. Focus on the primal stone, right?”

“Sorry. Was that not clear?”

Callum rolled his eyes and grunted, turning his eyes to bore into the primal stone in concentration. He tried to focus on the energy of the stone, and the differences between the sky and sun primals. Sky magic was free and artistic―sun magic was…different. He felt his brow furrow deeply and his eyes close as he focused on it. It almost felt like two different objects, both burning and comforting at the same time.

Even if he didn’t fully understand it―which he hadn’t expected on his first go with a new type of magic―he could _feel_ it. It was somewhat less natural than using the sky primal stone had been, but he was able to draw on its power easily enough.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Callum said, opening his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he had been concentrating for, but Gilavor had his arms crossed, and the skin on Callum’s exposed back was covered in goose bumps (which, as far as he was concerned, was worth it; he could charge his tattoo and do something productive at the same time).

Gilavor looked skeptical. “Really? I thought it would take longer. Are you sure you actually have it? We should probably―”

Callum was hardly listening, already doing his best to concentrate on tracing the rune in the air with the energy of the primal stone. He had it in a few moments, brain aflame with the magical image, just like it had been when he had traced the _aspiro_ spell in the air for the first time.

After a moment, the rune glowed in the air in front of him, much to the surprise of everyone on the field. Gilavor opened his mouth to say something else, but the word had already left Callum’s lips.

_“Ignis!”_

Immediately, the rune twisted in the air, forming a fireball the size of both his fists, which instantly came to rest in Callum’s right hand, glowing brightly against the night.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, grinning widely and holding up the fireball for Gilavor to see. “I did it!”

Gilavor grimaced. “Um…about that…”

It was then that the realization hit Callum like a sledgehammer.

He was holding a fireball. In his bare hand.

And it _hurt._

One time, when he was a child, Callum had accidentally put his open palm on a boiling teapot his mother was using. It had felt like he’d outright dipped his hand in the boiling water then. It was about ten times worse now.

“ _AHH!”_ Callum screeched, waving his hand up and down in an attempt to rid his hand of the fire consuming his skin.

“Callum!” Rayla exclaimed, eyes wide with panic as she rushed over. She took in the situation in less than a second and turned to Gilavor, waving her arms nearly as frantically as Callum himself was. “What did you _do?!_ ”

“Nothing!” Gilavor denied over Callum’s continued screaming. Then, “Callum! You need to _throw_ the fireball, not wave it―WOAH!”

Callum had heard all that he needed to. Desperate to get the ball of agony off his hand, he wound up his arm and chucked the thing as hard as he could―which, unfortunately, sent the fireball hurtling straight for Gilavor’s head.

Luckily, Gilavor was no fool, and he dove to the ground just in time. The fiery missile soared over his head with a loud _whoosh!_ and smacked into the leg of one of the training dummies across the field. The flame sizzled against the wood for a moment before extinguishing.

Silence for about three seconds. Then:

“ _OWWWW!”_

Callum probably would have laughed at his own behavior if his hand hadn’t been in such intense pain. He jumped from foot to foot, waving his hand up and down in hopes that the breeze could help soothe the burn on his palm. It only made the pain worse, and after about fifteen seconds, his brain seemed to catch up to the rest of his body.

He hissed and grimaced as he brought his hand in front of his face, assessing the damage. His palm was covered in bright red, leathery burns, with large, yellow blisters full of pus. He gagged, feeling the sudden urge to vomit as one of the blisters popped.

“Here,” Gilavor said, holding out one of his hands. “Let me take a look at it.”

Callum bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood as he held out his hand for the half-elf to examine. Behind Gilavor, Rayla’s ears were pinned to the side of her head, chewing on her lip as she observed Callum’s wound. Her face seemed to have taken on a greenish tint to it, and she looked close to heaving up her lunch, just like him. Callum couldn’t tell if she was worried or just nauseous, or a hint of both.

“I told you not to get burned!” Gilavor said suddenly, tutting in disgust as he analyzed Callum’s wound. Callum winced again, more at the expression on his friends’ faces than from the pain―which was still throbbing through his hand like a second heartbeat.

“Gilavor!” Rayla exclaimed with a scowl, punching him in the arm.

“Ow! Sorry, bad joke!”

“Guys!” Callum hissed through clenched teeth. “I’m trying my best not to pass out right now, can you _please_ find me some sort of painkiller or at least shut up!?”

“Don’t worry,” Gilavor said, snatching the primal stone back from Callum―which he had somehow managed not to drop while burning his other hand to a crisp. “There’s a spell just for this.”

Before Callum could say anything else―not that he wanted to, anyway, with his hand being in that condition―Gilavor began tracing another spell over Callum’s hand, thankfully not taking his time.

It was shaped like a strange triangle of sorts, with a strange inverted c shape in the middle. Callum could get a closer look at it, Gilavor spoke a word.

“ _Remedium.”_

Immediately, there was a flash of golden light, flowing from the symbol and into Callum’s hand. After a moment, the pain began to fade. Fascinated, he watched as his blisters began to knit themselves back into normal skin, and the nasty burn turned from an ugly red to soft pink to his normal skin tone. After nearly thirty seconds, the burn on his hand had completely disappeared.

He blinked for perhaps the millionth time since seeing Gilavor enact the spell. “Woah. That’s…awesome.” Callum lifted his hand to his face, inspecting the skin for any sign of injury. “Where did you learn to do all this?”

“I think the better question is why you burned yourself when you tried to do a spell,” Rayla said with a scowl aimed in Gilavor’s direction. Callum smiled a small smile at her concern.

“Right,” Gilavor said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I was _going_ to warn you beforehand, but _somebody_ was just a little bit too eager and went ahead with the spell before I could stop him.” 

Callum withered under the disapproving stares of both Rayla and Gilavor. “Um…sorry? I guess I’m just so excited to be learning a new kind of magic that I got a little carried away?”

Rayla harrumphed quietly. He looked at her for a moment before growing a positively feral grin on his face.

“Besides, Rayla, your job is to be the look _out,_ not the look _in._ ”

She blinked at him for a moment before her ears reddened and she scowled. “My _job_ is to look out for dangerous idiots. And that includes you, dummy.”

Callum’s grin only widened, but before he could reply with what he hoped would be a witty response, Gilavor coughed.

“Can I continue?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at them.

Rayla rolled her eyes and turned away to look back at campus. Her ears still seemed plenty red, but Callum must have been imagining it. 

“Right then,” Gilavor said, taking one more look at Callum’s hand before he spoke again. “I wasn’t entirely sure if my theory was correct, but now we know. Each creature connected to the sun primal is immune to their own fire, which is why _I_ didn’t burn myself when I did that spell, but _you_ did. You’re not connected to the sun primal, which means you’re vulnerable to _all_ forms of fire.”

Callum blinked, feeling a stone sink in his stomach. “So…” He did his best to swallow his disappointment. “You’re saying that I can’t learn this kind of magic.” His shoulders slumped.

“On the contrary,” Gilavor said, crossing his arms with a smug smile on his face, “I’m just saying that you need a little _protection_ in order to learn.”

Callum frowned. “What do you mean? Like, fireproof gloves?”

He heard a snort from Rayla behind him. He ignored her.

Gilavor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, Callum, I mean a spell.”

“Oh.” Callum laughed awkwardly for a moment before he realized what the half-elf had said. “Oh! Another spell!”

He heard the word “dork” whispered behind him and felt heat rush to his face. Gilavor didn’t seem to notice and continued almost without pause.

“Yes. Sun mages are immune to their _own_ fire, but not to the fire of others. That’s why there’s a need for this spell; in the olden days, the Sunfire elves used to duel each other. Plus, once Sunforge blades were invented, it was necessary to imbue the sheathes of the weapons with a protective rune to keep it from…you know.”

Callum paused. “What about dark magic?”

Gilavor blinked. “What?”

Callum felt a shudder go down his spine as images began to fill his mind, but banished the thoughts immediately. “Nevermind. What’s the spell?”

The half-elf shot him a strange look but went on after a moment. “If I remember right―and I do―it’s called the _ignis-tutamen_ spell. It creates a…a sort of shield against heat for your body. You’ll see in a second. Hopefully this should protect you from the fire the next time you try it.”

 _“Hopefully?”_ Callum and Rayla exclaimed at the same time.

Gilavor gave them a sheepish smile. “Heh. Well. Learn as you go, right?”

 _“Learn as ye go?”_ Rayla demanded in a voice that was an octave higher than usual. “That’s―that’s not something ye just improvise!”

“Yeah, no, I have to agree with her on this,” Callum exclaimed, feeling like his eyes would pop out of his skull. He _really_ didn’t want to experience something like that burning pain again.

Gilavor frowned and rubbed his hands together awkwardly. “Well, it’s either learning as we go, or not at all. I don’t think we have time to waste in the library to make sure that it does what we think it does. Aaravos could decide to get his primal stone back for whatever he needs it for at any moment.”

Callum frowned, staring at the primal stone still resting in Gilavor’s hands. The light inside, still flickering randomly, seemed to beckon him forward, imploring him to learn. Callum crossed his arms, a headache blooming in his skull as he debated with himself on what to do. On the one hand, there was a possibility he could be injured―or worse―if the spell went wrong. On the other, if the spell worked, Callum would both be learning a new type of magic and finding another way to defend himself at the same time. 

After everything that had happened, he had decided that magic was much like a game of chess―which he had always been terrible at. Sometimes the opponent had moves planned far in advance, and it was best to use a wildcard to throw them off. Of course, his step-father had never accepted the move when Callum threw playing cards at him, but it usually gave him time to think…

“Okay,” Callum said.

“Okay?” Gilavor and Rayla asked in unison.

“Okay. What do I need to do for this spell?”

“Callum, are you sure about this?” Rayla asked, stepping up to his side. Her violet eyes were narrowed in concern, her ears lifted slightly. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does?” he countered. After a moment of hesitation, he added, “Besides, Gilavor can always just use that healing spell on me if it doesn’t.”

She cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Yeah, unless you end up blowing your own head off.”

Callum pursed his lips at that. “Um. Yeah. Unless that happens. You’re not really being very encouraging, you know?”

Her hard gaze softened, as did the sudden harsh angle of her ears. “I…sorry. I’m just…I’m just worried about you.”

Rayla immediately made a face, as if she had just bitten into a lemon. Callum’s grin turned absolutely _savage_ as Gilavor rolled his eyes.

“Wow, Rayla,” Callum said, turning his grin into a facetious smirk, leaning toward her just slightly. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Shut up, you dumb human.” Rayla rolled her eyes, crossing her arms uncomfortably.

Callum’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile. “Hey,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He felt her muscles loosen under his hand as she met his eyes. “Well,” she said, “ _someone_ has to look out for you, dummy.”

 _“Anyway,”_ Gilavor interrupted, raising his eyebrows at them. “Am I going to teach you this spell or not?”

Callum chuckled awkwardly, taking a step toward the half-elf. “So, how does this work?”

“It’s actually fairly simple,” Gilavor replied, lifting the primal stone once more. For the third time that night, Callum watched Gilavor trace a golden symbol in the air, mentally taking note. It looked somewhat like a strange embellished hook of sorts, with the inside of the curve facing down. It was strangely familiar, and it took Callum a moment to realize where he had seen it before.

“That’s the symbol engraved on the sheathes of Sunforge blades!” he exclaimed, squinting at the symbol floating in the air. “There was a man who waltzed into town one day, bragging about how he’d stolen a Sunforge dagger from…” He trailed off, noting how both of his friends were glaring at him. “Never mind. Is it my turn?”

Gilavor nodded and handed the primal stone over. Almost immediately, the rune floating in the air winked out of existence, unable to exist without a connection to the sun primal. Like before, Callum already had the symbol memorized. And also like before, he was able to slowly trace the glyph in the air, feeling the warm flow of magic on his fingertip.

“What―what’s the phrase again?” Callum stammered, feeling the weight of the spell at the end of his finger. “Wait―I’ve got it. _Ignis-tutamen!”_

Instantly, another bright flash of golden light replaced the night; this time, the flash wrapped itself around Callum.

It was a very strange feeling, that was for sure. It was almost like donning a second set of clothes, though if anything the extra layer made him colder, like his whole body was being subjected to a cool breeze. Goosebumps broke out across his bare flesh, and he shivered once before wrapping his arms around himself. When he looked down at his arm, he found that golden light wrapped around him. It almost looked like a glowing, second layer of skin.

“This feels weird,” he announced, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the night once more.

“It’s supposed to,” Gilavor said with another one of his patented eye rolls. “If you don’t feel any different, then you’d know it wasn’t working.”

“So, that’s it then?” Rayla asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “That―” She gestured to the thin sheen of golden light covering Callum’s body. “―is supposed to protect him from a _fireball?”_

“Yes,” Gilavor said simply. “Technically speaking, though, the spell can only withstand…oh, maybe five average-sized fireballs. Most spells are stronger when engraved on something…or someone.” He eyed the tattoo on Callum’s back.

Callum cleared his throat, the memory of having needles ink the rune on his back unpleasant in his brain. “So, this will _work_ , right?” He was suddenly very uncomfortable with the half-answers he had been given.

Gilavor shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

Callum was going to strangle him.

But he forced himself to take a deep breath, and took a step between Gilavor and Rayla as a thinly-veiled attempt at protecting the half-elf from Rayla’s murderous glare. Before Callum could succumb to his own frustration, he traced the fire rune in the air. He hesitated for only a moment before speaking.

“ _Ignis!”_

Callum squeezed his eyes shut before he could see the result, wincing as he braced himself for the pain. However, when no pain arrived, he cracked open one eye cautiously.

There, resting in the same hand as before, was a crackling and hissing fireball, smaller than the previous one but still very much serviceable. And the closest thing to pain Callum felt was a warm tingling on his hand.

“Ha!” he barked out with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I―I did it!”

Both Gilavor and Rayla smiled at him, though there seemed to be a bit of caution in their expressions as well.

“Great!” Gilavor exclaimed, his smile a little more forced. “Now, how about throwing it rather than waving it around like last time?”

“I wasn’t―I wasn’t waving it around!”

Rayla motioned as if she were going to lay a hand on his shoulder but then thought better of it as the hand with the fireball jerked suddenly. “Just throw the fireball and _aim_ this time, dummy.”

Callum sighed, eyeballing the training dummies across the field. He glanced at the fire held in his palm and gulped.

“Well,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Only one way to find out.”

He rolled his shoulders back, took a deep breath, and threw the fireball.

It whizzed off much more accurately this time, though still not perfect. Still, no one had to duck (Gilavor had made sure he was well out of the way this time) and the fireball slammed into the left arm of one of the training dummies, nearly knocking it over in the process.

―which is exactly what happened to Callum. One moment, he was lifting his hand to throw the fireball, and the next, his feet were flying out from under him and he was lying on his back, head aching enough to blur his eyesight just a little bit.

“Oh,” he groaned. “Ouch.” _Again._ Seriously, why was _he_ always the one in pain?

Gilavor cursed as Rayla helped Callum to his feet. Callum rubbed the back of his head and winced as he felt a goose egg blooming.

“I’m sorry!” Gilavor said with a grimace as Rayla glared at him. “I don’t know why that―”

“It was his stance, obviously,” she interrupted in a matter-of-fact voice. “The force from throwing that fireball knocked him off balance.” She blushed as Callum and Gilavor stared at her. “What?”

“Well,” Callum said, holding his forehead. Despite the headache wrestling its way to the forefront of his mind, a grin found its way to his face. “That was fun. Let’s do it again.”

**< |>**

Once again, Callum was a nervous wreck. At least he was getting used to it.

He was busy pacing outside Aaravos’s classroom, running his fingers through his hair and trying his best to keep his breathing under control. His head still ached a bit too (despite the healing spell Gilavor had applied the previous night), which wasn’t helping matters.

He hadn’t had class with the Startouch elf since he and Rayla had discovered the truth about Aaravos, and Callum had gotten his voice back. Since…since they’d learned that Aaravos was working with the man who had murdered Callum’s step-father right in front of him.

Bad thought. Very bad thought. He shouldn’t think about that. At all. Not the smell, or the blood, or―

“Callum!” a voice came. He spun on his heel to find Rayla headed toward him, one hand on the strap of her backpack. “There you are! I was starting to―what’s wrong?”

Callum pointed at the door to Aaravos’s office, suddenly unable to form the words he needed, with a voice or without. 

She glanced at the door for but a moment before understanding flashed in her eyes. “You’re anxious.”

Callum thought about denying it, but one look at her face told him that she already knew the truth―and she had done such a good job calming him down last time he’d been panicking that the logical part of him couldn’t refuse.

“It’ll be okay,” Rayla told him, approaching quickly and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Aaravos can’t do anything to us in his own office. It’d be too obvious, and he’s smarter than that.” She hesitated for a moment, then squeezed his shoulder with a soft smile. “Besides, if he tries, I’ll boot him into next month. Just…play dumb in there and everything will be fine. Let me do the talking, okay?” She added that last part with a wink.

Callum took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. For once, he was grateful that he wasn’t supposed to say anything, for it meant that there was less chance he would say something stupid.

Once his heartbeat had calmed down somewhat, he shot Rayla a grateful smile. “You’re great, you know that, right?”

“Of course I knew that,” she replied with a confident smirk. “It’s me, remember?”

Callum rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”

“That’s the spirit. Just remember to breathe, okay?”

“Breathe,” Callum told himself as Rayla approached the door to Aaravos’s office. “All right. I can do this. I can…do this.”

All of these thoughts vanished as Rayla pushed open the door to reveal Aaravos, leaning casually against his desk.

“I’m glad to see you were able to make it to class,” Aaravos purred. “Suffering from a sore throat, Callum?”

Oh, he definitely couldn’t do this.

Rayla sent Callum a look over her shoulder that managed to settle the anxiety tightening his muscles. When she turned back to the teacher, it was with a subtle confidence.

“No, professor,” she said, shoulders squared. “Callum just burned himself while making _tea._ ”

It was all Callum could do not to gape at her. She…she had really just batted away Aaravos’s thinly veiled threat with one of her own, hadn’t she? Heavens above, he was incredibly grateful that she was on his side. She’d only known the truth for two weeks, and already he was beginning to realize how utterly lost he would be without her.

“Shall we get on with class, then?” Aaravos asked, eyes narrowed just slightly at the pair waiting outside his door.

 _“Yes,”_ Callum signed, hands just a bit shaky. _“Let’s.”_

Aaravos gestured them forward, and Rayla and Callum entered the classroom stiffly, sitting at the two small desks in front of the chalkboard with barely restrained anxiety. On Callum’s part, at least. Rayla looked as calm as ever, though he did notice her leg bounce up and down under the desk once or twice before she stopped herself.

“Today,” Aaravos said, crossing his arms as he stared at them, “we will be covering the intricacies of Star magic, and how it’s quite unlike the other forms of magic.”

There was a smugness to his voice that suddenly gave Callum the urge to _fulminis_ the Startouch elf into next week. As his jaw twinged, Rayla kicked him under the desk as Aaravos looked away.

 _“Relax,”_ she mouthed at him.

Relax. Right. He could do that. He forced himself to take deep breaths as Aaravos began to write up on the chalkboard.

“Star magic is more complex than other forms of magic,” he said, “which means that it often requires ingredients and magical relatives to channel the powerful magic.”

Despite the contempt Callum held for the professor, he perked up at the phrase _magical relatives._ That was something he had learned in his other classes; in simple terms, a magical relative was an object, plant, or animal connected to an arcanum. Apparently, Xadia had many things that fell into the category of _magical relative._ He supposed that was part of what made dark magic so easy.

As if on instinct, his brain automatically shied away from the term “dark magic,” but not before an idea sparked in his head.

He touched Rayla’s arm to get her attention and started signing quickly. She read each word aloud as soon as she saw it, which he quickly realized was a mistake.

“Is there any connection between star magic and dark…magic?”

As soon as she finished the sentence, Rayla sent him a glare that could melt steel, but Callum was too busy staring down Aaravos to pay her any mind.

If anything, Callum could take a little pride in the temporary shock that flashed in the Startouch elf’s eyes. Clearly, the professor hadn’t been expecting such a bold question. Callum wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing he had been such a surprise.

But the shock vanished soon enough from Aaravos’s eyes, leaving Callum feeling like he had just made a big mistake.

“Well,” Aaravos said with a sly smile, “there are some who say dark magic was born from star magic.”

_Oh, yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that._

As the elf turned back to the board, Callum suddenly became very aware of Rayla’s hand on his waist, slipping something into his pocket discreetly. Before he could fully process what was happening, Aaravos turned around, and the pressure on Callum’s hip disappeared.

Aaravos had drawn a symbol on the board, one that immediately made Callum’s blood run cold. It resembled a caduceus, something that most healers had on their doors. But it was darker, eviller than the healer’s symbol. The dark magic symbol.

Under the desk, Callum clenched his hands into tight fists. He swallowed as he struggled to keep the smell of blood out of his nose. He _really_ shouldn’t have said anything.

Aaravos smirked and turned back to the chalkboard again and began drawing the star magic symbol, but Callum was barely paying attention to him. To distract himself, the second the Startouch elf had his back turned, Callum dug his hand into his pocket to feel a piece of parchment resting inside.

He glanced at Rayla, confused, but she was doing an excellent job of keeping her face impassive, per usual. Containing a grunt of frustration, he withdrew the note and scanned it as quickly as he could.

 _Very subtle, sad prince. Are you_ _trying_ _to get us caught? At least_ _pretend_ _you can tolerate professor crazy over there._

Callum glowered at her, but another note landed on his desk right as Aaravos began to turn around. Quickly, Callum laid his hand over the note and attempted to look nonchalant.

Callum tried his best to keep his face impassive as Aaravos droned on (something about history? Callum had stopped listening.), but it was _hard._ He was torn between wanting to run away and hide in his dorm room for an eternity and finding some way to summon a storm in the middle of the room to vaporize Aaravos. Maybe both.

Aaravos turned away again― _For a teacher, he sure spends a lot of his time facing away from us,_ Callum thought―and Callum immediately lifted his hand to read Rayla’s second note.

_Don’t let him get in your head. He’s trying to get you to crack. If you want to spite him, spite him by showing him you won’t give in._

Then, at the bottom, almost as an afterthought, _Do you need me to get my swords?_ A little smiley face was drawn next to it, with two little sticks Callum guessed were swords.

He couldn’t help a snort, but disguised the rest of his laughter as a cough. Next to him, Rayla cracked a little smile. They both wiped the humor off their faces as Aaravos turned around, frowning. He narrowed his eyes at them, then put his piece of chalk down.

“The bottom line,” he said, “is that dark magic is dangerous, especially for those who don’t know what they’re getting into. Isn’t that right, Callum?”

Callum tensed for a moment before he released the tension in his muscles.

 _“Of course, professor,”_ he signed calmly as Rayla translated. _“And I’m sure star magic is_ just _as dangerous.”_

Aaravos’s eye twitched. Triumph flickered in Callum’s chest as the professor picked up his piece of chalk once more and turned back to the chalkboard grumpily.

Huh. Rayla was right. Maybe he could do this.

**< |>**

“All right, Callum, off with your shirt, pop it off.” 

Gilavor’s words elicited a blush from Callum, who reluctantly shrugged his maroon tunic over his head.

After Aaravos’s class—mostly filled with thinly veiled threats and more passed notes between Callum and Rayla—she could tell that, once again, the boy needed to unwind and get his mind on something else. His dorky love of magic was the best way to do it. So, as soon as class was over (it had run a bit long with all the posturing on Aaravos’s part), she and Callum had walked over to Sylva field. 

There wasn’t fencing practice, oddly enough, but she figured she’d learn the reason later; the coach never cancelled unless something important was going on, and they never found out until the next practice anyway. Perhaps it should have worried her more, but that was before she had accidentally involved herself in a convoluted plot with humans and dark magic.

In any event, Gilavor was already waiting for them by the time they arrived. He was holding the primal stone in his right hand, but before he handed it over, he had told Callum to take off his shirt.

“Uh, hold on,” Rayla said, lifting a hand to block Callum’s half-covered torso from view. She was _not_ blushing. Not even a little. “ _Why_ does he need to do that?” She cleared her throat. “Last time he only took his shirt off to charge that tattoo on his back.”

Gilavor performed one of his infamous shrugs. “Until Callum has more practice with the heat protection spell, this will help him figure out when the spell is almost exhausted. You don’t want another burn on him, do you?”

She couldn’t help the twitch in her eye. “No. I don’t.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Callum resume the removal of his tunic, and hastily tacked on, “ _But_ we should practice stance first!”

Gilavor raised an eyebrow at her. Callum’s shirt was covering his head almost comically, and she would have laughed if her ears hadn’t felt so hot.

“S-so he doesn’t fall over again,” she added. _Smooth, Rayla._

Gilavor didn’t seem too impressed by her reasoning, though he didn’t share why. Instead, he shrugged again and waved at Callum despite the fact that the human wouldn’t be able to see it. “All right Callum, put your shirt back on.”

Callum muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Thank heavens,” and tugged his shirt back down. Immediately, the illusion from his tattoo activated again, encircling him in a bright silvery light. Rayla moved to shield her eyes, but not before she watched his golden horns slowly grow back and his face bloom those sky-blue markings. It felt strangely intimate to watch the transformation, and she found her ears were even hotter, her face even redder than before.

Wonderful. Now she was getting sick, on top of everything else. She always had flashes of heat before she came down with the sandworm flu. 

“Okay,” Callum said, straightening his hair out with his hands. “How _do_ I improve my stance, Master Rayla?”

She smirked. “Master, eh? I like the sound of that.” Then she chewed on her lip, thinking about her words for a moment. How had Runaan taught her? It had been a long time since she had learned the basics, and they were so ingrained in her now that she hardly had to think about it. Teaching it would be a different experience entirely.

“Okay,” she eventually said. “I think it’ll be easier if I just show you how to do it. Just…stand like this.” She put her left leg in front, bending into it as she spread her right leg behind her as support. As she watched Callum clumsily duplicate her stance, she made sure to clarify. “Make sure your back leg is straight. And have your stance a little wider, like you’re standing on two boards of wood.”

Callum grimaced as he adjusted his stance, nearly falling over in the process. Rayla did her best to suppress a laugh. This was the first stance that Runaan had taught her. While it didn’t exactly _look_ cool, it was designed to keep one from falling over. It should work for Callum as he cast spells, so long as he didn’t throw all of his body into casting the spell. As long as he didn’t end up killing himself, she would be happy with whatever stance he could manage. The human had grown on her. Just a bit. Her pride wouldn’t let her admit much more than that.

“How’s this?” Callum asked her, grinning at her as he teetered in the wind. In the moment Rayla had taken to collect her thoughts, he’d somehow ruined his stance again. 

She sighed. Experience was always the best teacher―wasn’t that what Runaan had always told her?

“Callum,” she said, taking a step closer and wincing in advance. “Please forgive me for this.”

She had a moment to see his confused face before she spun around, lashing out with her foot to sweep out his front leg, which sent him careening backwards. But because she had taken pity on the poor human and didn’t have it in her to let him fall, she reached out with her hand and snatched the front of his shirt, keeping him from hitting the ground at the last second.

Unfortunately, she had no way of predicting how hard she would have to pull him up to keep them both from falling over, and she overcompensated, assuming that he woulds weigh more than he actually did. As a result, she pulled him far too close to her face, which threw her even _more_ off balance, and caused her to compensate the other way; she had to place her other hand on the small of his back to keep them both from falling over. That, of course, created a whole host of other problems.

He…wasn’t ugly. Of course he wasn’t―she could see that much even when she wasn’t so close to his face. But Callum also wasn’t… _not_ handsome. Even though his illusion was working once more, she could see that his features were decidedly _not_ elven. She actually found that she liked that; the difference from the standard, long-faced and wide-eyed elven look was welcome. And so she found herself liking his deep green eyes, and the way his messy brown hair fell onto his forehead, and the blush spreading across his face…

She blinked. _What_ was going through her mind? _Why_ hadn’t she tried to stand up straight yet?

“You, uh,” Callum suddenly said, voice cracking, face as red as a _venenum_ plant, “you swept the leg.”

“Yeah,” Rayla replied after a moment, her own voice unsure. She suddenly felt very jittery for no discernable reason. “I guess I did.”

 _“Ahem,”_ Gilavor coughed not-so-politely, jarring them out of…whatever it was that they were experiencing. “Can we please continue?”

“Right,” Rayla said, dropping Callum on the ground.

“Oof,” Callum grunted, landing hard in the dirt. She grinned at him as a strange sort of apology, though it felt somewhat awkward and forced. _What just happened?_ was the only thought spirally through her head with anything close to clarity.

“Great!” Gilavor said, the only one completely unbothered by what had just happened. “Now that Callum understands how to not to fall over―” He winced as Callum brushed dust out of his hair, stumbling to his feet clumsily. “―for the most part, is it my turn to teach the wayward human something?”

“Uh.” Rayla cleared her throat and forced her features into resembling something normal. “Yeah. Sure. Go ahead.”

“Uh, maybe we could take a break for a second?” Callum asked, rubbing the back of his head. “I think I hurt my neck a little in that fall.”

Guilt overrode any leftover embarrassment that she felt. “Oh, gosh, Callum, I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he told her, sending a smile her way. “If anything, it taught me not to put so much weight on my front leg.”

 _Well, at least_ something _good came out of…whatever that was,_ Rayla thought as relief flooded her chest. He wasn’t injured and he wasn’t holding a grudge against her. She considered that a win.

Gilavor, on the other hand, seemed frustrated. “Fine, whatever. Let’s take a break,” he said, crossing his arms. One of his eyes twitched. It was actually a bit amusing, and Rayla hid a smile as she sat in the grass, feeling the need to let the dew-soaked plants cool her down a bit, despite the fact that it was actually quite chilly out.

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments as Gilavor and Callum sat in the grass as well. Rayla closed her eyes and listened to the trees swaying in the wind for a minute until Callum’s voice broke the quiet.

“So where did you learn all these spells, Gilavor?” he asked, leaning back and resting his hands against the ground. Rayla quickly looked away from him and over at Gilavor, who seemed contemplative.

“My pops taught me,” he said after a moment. “Before he was…you know…” He coughed, and then, as if they didn’t remember, added, “Crippled.”

Rayla felt a wave of sympathy roll over her. And a memory, but she pushed the latter down. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your father, Gilavor. Something like that should never happen in the first place.”

Gilavor shrugged again. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not, but I’m okay. He is too, somewhere in Katolis, I think.”

And then he turned to Callum. “Is it okay if I ask you what your step-father was like? I know it’s probably not my place, but―”

Callum waved away his concerns with his right hand. “No, it’s fine, you’re a friend.” Then he stopped for a moment, looking about a thousand miles away. His eyes grew watery for a moment, but then he spoke. “He was…he was very kind, and he never hesitated to help anyone who needed it, even if it ended up breaking a couple rules.” A rueful smile graced his face. “He was really wise, I guess. He always gave my brother and I really good advice, when he wasn’t trying to encourage us to make ‘dirt-men’ or something weird like that.”

Rayla snorted and cocked an eyebrow. “‘Dirt-men?’”

He grinned at her without warning. “Yeah. Ezran and I used to make a lot of snowmen when we were kids, and I guess he liked seeing us work together like that, even when it wasn’t winter.”

She smiled at that. “Sounds like he was a nice man.”

“Yeah,” Callum said, smiling too as he looked off in the distance. “Yeah, he was.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Gilavor agreed with a nod. “What about your mother? Isn’t she still around?”

Callum physically winced, as if he had fallen on the ground. “She…” He swallowed. “She died when I was young. It was a mugger. Some people who saw it say it was an elf, but no one really knows…it doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”

Something in Rayla’s heart twinged. Callum was too kind, too good to have suffered all of the heartbreak he had in life. It wasn’t _fair._

It took her a moment to realize that she was clenching her fists, her nails digging into her palms rather painfully. She forced herself to relax as Gilavor sputtered out an apology.

“It’s―Gil, it’s _fine,_ ” Callum said, smiling sadly at the half-elf. “It was a long time ago. I’m okay.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gilavor’s face was red, and he seemed genuinely ashamed of his question. But it appeared that he hadn’t learned his lesson, because he turned to Rayla, presumably with the hope of moving onto a happier topic. “What…what are your parents like, Rayla?”

Rayla physically recoiled away from the question, scrambling to her feet suddenly. The night felt like it had closed in on her without warning, and she had to stop herself from reaching for her blades. Memories encroached on her thoughts, and she had to fight to keep them away.

“I’m going to bed,” she managed to bark out, not caring that she was being a bit of a jerk. “Goodnight.”

She turned on her heel, beginning the long march back to the dormitories. 

“What did I say?” she heard Gilavor softly ask. But she paused as she heard Callum’s sharp intake of breath, not caused by anything she had said.

It was a split second decision that kept her from reaching for her swords as a figure stepped from the shadows, a smirk on his ugly face and malice in his golden eyes.

“Talvo,” Rayla growled. “I’m _really_ not in the mood tonight. Could we maybe postpone your beating for another time?”

What was he even doing there? Was he spying on them? She supposed he had enough reason to, especially if he had been the one to place that snake in Callum’s room.

The Sunfire elf narrowed his eyes at her. Then he looked behind her, to where Callum still sat in the grass. Talvo pointed a meaty finger at him and said, “Maybe that one wants to speak for himself.”

Gilavor stood, standing defensively between the bully and the disguised human. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Callum has never spoken a day in his life.”

“He’s right,” Rayla added, crossing her arms. “I think maybe your hearing is a bit off, Talvo.”

Talvo glowered at her, and she could _feel_ the malice rolling off of him in waves. 

“You know,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “I really hope you get what’s coming to you in the upcoming fencing match.”

“What’re ye talking about?” Rayla demanded, doing her best not to grimace when her accent slipped out. The first fencing match of the year was weeks away; why would he be mentioning it like that?

“You mean―” Talvo’s ugly face split into a grin. “Oh, this is great. You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Gilavor said, taking a step forward as Callum stood behind him. “Spit it out, Talvo.”

“Oh, I will.” The bully’s grin only grew as he looked back at Rayla. “You know, I hear the human fencers are being particularly vicious in their practices this year.”

She froze. “You don’t mean―”

Talvo laughed. “Oh, yes. The fencing coach just learned about it today. You’re going to be fighting _humans_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Callum. Turns out FIRE is HOT! What a shocker. Ah, the things we do for knowledge. (P.S: Was I on sleep medication when I wrote that scene and others in this chapter? I’ll never tell.) I have TOO MANY sarcastic comments about this chapter. It’s sort of painful keeping them all inside.
> 
> Took me a hot minute to write this one. As such, there may be more errors in the chapter that I might have missed―sorry, if there are any. Also: School has started up for me here, so I may not be able to get another update in for another hot minute until I got adjusted? I hate having these month-long intervals between chapters, but I was promoted to editor-in-chief of the school newspaper so my schedule is bound to be busier for a little bit. But who knows? I may have a bit of inspiration here and there! Thanks to everyone who helped me work through my block!
> 
> I know nothing about latin. Please forgive me.


	12. Muttering in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, Rayla, if most elves are like you, then they can’t be all that bad.”  
>  “And if all humans are like you, Callum, then they can’t be that bad either.”

Callum was growing quite used to the tapping of fingertips on the outside of his window. This time, he didn’t even have to look up from his book to know that it was Rayla, but he did it anyway. It was, indeed, Rayla, and she was holding a sack of goodies, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him. She also had a gigantic grin on her face, despite the bags underneath her eyes.

“I’ve got it!” Ezran exclaimed, jumping up from his bunk to undo the latches on the window. A rush of cold air entered the room, and Rayla quickly swung inside and closed the makeshift-entrance behind her.

She shook a bit of snow out of her white hair, face flushed from windburn. “The weather’s starting to get bad.”

Callum felt something in his chest give a little at the sight of her, but before he could analyze it any further, Ezran nearly knocked her over as he plowed into her to give her a massive hug.

“Woah!” Rayla exclaimed, stumbling a bit. Callum only had a small heart attack as her back hit the window and the glass shook just slightly. “Careful there, Ez.”

“Sorry!” Ezran apologized, backing up sheepishly. On his bed, Bait croaked three times, sounding suspiciously like laughter as he turned pink.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” she told him, ruffling his hair just a little bit before she took a few steps forward, before immediately stumbling again.

Callum immediately had his book down and was at her side in an instant, grabbing her elbow to steady her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fayne,” she insisted, but the slip into her accent betrayed her surprise.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It’s the night of the new moon tonight. You thought you could slip that past me?”

Rayla cocked a stubborn eyebrow at him. “Clearly not, since you’re looking very  _ human _ today.” To prove her point, she ruffled the back of his head were his illusionary horns were supposed to be.

“Har har,” Callum replied, trying his best to be grumpy and stern. He couldn’t help the small smile that ghosted across his lips, however. It felt nice, to be human again. He missed being himself, voice and all. It also felt nice to be himself around a friend. What  _ wasn’t _ so nice was the fact that the new moon apparently drained the power from the tattoo on his back, so he had to call in sick  _ again _ to his classes that day.

“I’m  _ fine, _ Callum,” Rayla insisted.

“You don’t  _ look _ fine.”

It was true. Although she appeared to be in better condition than the past new moon, the bags under her eyes were a dark purple and there was a small bead of sweat on her forehead, despite the chilly weather out. Secretly, he found it a wonder she had been able to scale the building at all, though he knew she was too stubborn to admit that.

Rayla rolled her eyes. “It isn’t as bad this month. Besides, I am perfectly capable of standing on my own, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” Callum said, feeling heat rush to his face as he realized that he was still holding her arm. “Sorry.”

She shot him a strange look as he let go of her, but didn’t comment on it much further. Instead, she lifted up her bag. “Anyway. Happy one month anniversary! Give or take a week or two.”

 Callum’s brow furrowed as Ezran gasped in delight. Rayla grinned as she planted her sack on Callum’s bed and started taking out items. The first was, of course, a small bag of jelly tarts, one of which Bait immediately stole. Rayla made a little sound of disgust, took a half step away, and started pulling out everything else.

Most of it was books, and the rest consisted of a few jelly tarts that had fallen loose. Callum smiled and tossed a few of them to Ezran, who munched on them happily.

“Okay!” Rayla exclaimed, after organizing the books into two piles. She grabbed the larger stack first and turned around, a massive grin on her face. “These books are for you, Ezran! I know it must be boring staying in here all day, so I tried to find some books that would interest you.”

Ezran’s eyes lit up. Really,  _ truly _ lit up, with an excitement that Callum hadn't seen since before they left Katolis. Ezran jumped off the bed to grab the books from her with the biggest smile Callum had ever seen on his face. “What are these?”

“These are books about stuff Xadian kids get down to, plus I found a book about Earthblood elves and what they could do. I figure…maybe there’s something in there similar to what you can do with animals? If not, it still could be an interesting read.” Rayla ruffled Ezran’s hair again, and Ezran barely paused to put the books on his bed before squashing her in a massive hug. Rayla stumbled again but managed to stay on her feet as she returned the hug, smiling widely.

“Thank you so much, Rayla!” Ezran exclaimed, squeezing her tight.

“Heh,” Rayla chuckled, “You’re welcome, Ez.”

When Ezran finally released her, hugging a book and Bait to his chest, she turned back to Callum, then paused. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“You’re…uh. You’re staring.”

All of his blood must have rushed to his face then, because he hadn’t noticed. His mouth had even been open! It was just…she was being so kind to Ezran. And it wasn’t because he was the son of the president of a university, or because she felt sorry for him. It was because she was a kind, compassionate person who genuinely cared. It was because she was amazing. Such a thing shouldn’t have been such an anomaly, but Callum couldn’t help the admiration that swelled in his chest. She didn’t have to be helping them, and she didn’t have to be kind to them either. But she did both, because she was…her.

And, of course, that realization meant his tongue stopped working.

“Uh―I’m―you’re―it’s―that’s―” He took a breath. “I’m…fine. That’s just…nice of you.” Was it hot in there all of a sudden? It felt hot.

Rayla gave him a strange look, her ears just a bit red, before clearing her throat and going back to Callum’s bed to pick up the last couple of books. “Okay then…these ones are for you.” The pile was significantly smaller than Ezran’s, maybe only two or three books tall, yet she seemed to be more sheepish about it.

“These are, uh, some art books I found?” She sounded unsure of herself, her ears high on her head but squeezed to the side of her skull. “I know you like to draw, and I figured with everything going on you don’t have a lot of time to look at art, so I thought you might like looking at some Xadian paintings in these books?” She ended each sentence like it was a question, and Callum again found himself smiling at her. It was so rare that she was embarrassed about anything. It was actually quite…well. He thought it was cute.

“Thank you, Ray,” he said without thinking as he took the books from her. He’d never gotten a chance to look at a lot of Xadian art. In truth, he couldn’t wait to look at them. He’d just need to find some free time to―

“Ray?” Rayla asked suddenly.

Callum jumped, nearly dropping the books in his arms to the ground. “Wh-what?”

Her eyebrow was raised, and maybe it was just a trick of the light, but her cheeks seemed to have a dusting of pink on them too. “You just called me Ray.”

He blinked as his brain did a one-eighty and backtracked to what he had said and why. His eyes flicked over to Ezran, who had his head resting on both hands as he watched them interact, grinning like he knew something they didn’t.

“Oh,” Callum eventually managed to say. “Well. You call me ‘dummy,’ and ‘sad prince,’ so I figured it was about time I gave you a nickname.”

“Hmm.” Rayla’s face had easily slipped into one of smugness, with a sly look glittering in her violet eyes. “‘Ray.’ I like it. Though, I think ‘Beautiful’ or ‘Gorgeous’ might suit me better.”

_ Yeah, _ Callum nearly agreed aloud.  _ Wait, what? _

“PFFT-HAHAHAHA!” Ezran suddenly burst out laughing, falling back on his bed, clutching his gut like it was about to fall out of his body. Bait instantly joined in, turning pink once more and uttering the strange series of grunting sounds that Callum knew signified laughter.

“Ez―Ez, stop laughing, you’ll wake the whole dorm!―what’s so funny?” Callum demanded, trying his best not to giggle himself. Ezran’s laughter had always been contagious.

“It’s―pfft-haha!―it’s so―” Ezran collapsed into another giggling fit, and this time Callum couldn’t help joining in. He wasn’t quite sure what was funny, but he laughed anyway.

Ezran tried again to communicate through tears of laughter, but Callum was only able to catch the words “oblivious” and “hilarious” before the laughing started up again, just as loud as before. Eventually all three of them were laughing like that, to the point where if Callum hadn’t been so busy clutching his side, he would have been immensely worried about someone outside the dorm hearing them.

But after a while, the laughter died down, and Bait stopped croaking (or cackling; it sounded like a bit of both), which left the room with a small moment of happy silence.

“I have to fight humans at the fencing match in a few weeks,” Rayla suddenly declared, all trace of humor gone from her face.

“We know,” Callum said, frowning. “Talvo had to gloat it over us, remember?”

She chewed on her lip in an almost sheepish manner. “I remember. My point is that the whole school is making a big deal out of it. You might hear some…unsavory things about humans in the next few weeks.”

He winced. “That’s great. As if I needed more of that.”

Sometimes, he’d overhear the other elves make humans the butt of a joke. Humans actually came up quite often in his sky magic class, where the professor liked to contrast Skywing nature with human nature―Callum suspected she had a deep-seated hatred of humans, which apparently wasn’t uncommon among the older professors. He tried his best to keep his head down and learn as much as he could without interacting with the professor much in that class.

“And…there are going to be humans in the crowd, too. People like their sports in the human kingdoms enough to venture to Xadia, I g-guess.” 

Rayla’s brow was furrowed, and she seemed more worried than usual. The bags under her eyes had become more apparent in the past few minutes, and she sagged against one of Callum’s bed posts.

“Great,” Callum muttered. “So I guess I’ll be hiding in here that day.”

She winced. “Except that’s the bad news. Everyone has to attend. Fencing is sort of a…patriotic tradition around here. Headmaster Pharon has apparently had attendance mandatory for years, especially for the first match.”

He buried his head in his hands and groaned. “ _ Wonderful. _ ” What were the chances of those humans being able to recognize him? He didn’t want to think about it, especially not if his name had been plastered all over Katolis on wanted posters. Maybe he could just wear an oversized sweatshirt or something and hope no one would think too much of it. It was the beginning of winter, after all.

Rayla made a thoughtful face as she yawned. “Maybe we can talk to Lujanne. She might be able to put a temporary illusion for you so that your face is a bit different.”

Callum perked up at that. “Oh, that sounds cool. And less painful than a tattoo.”

“Hmm,” Ezran groaned.

Callum cocked an eyebrow as he realized that his younger brother was slouched against his pillow, eyes closed. The boy had fallen asleep!

“Huh,” Callum said, now in a softer voice. “I guess it was later than I thought.”

Rayla yawned again. “Yeah, it’s been a long day. I had to spend a long time in the library looking for those books. The librarians eventually kicked me out.”

Callum smiled at her. “Thank you for these. It’s…a nice break from what’s been happening.”

“Mm,” Rayla murmured in reply as he began to flip through the pages of the art book she had gotten him. 

The book was full of illustrations in full color, depicting fields of such breathtaking beauty that he had to stop and stare at them for a moment in order to properly appreciate them. There were trees and forests as well, and deserts, and oceans, and he soon lost himself in the pages.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until he heard a bird hoot in the distance. He blinked as he looked up from his book, descending back into reality. 

“Rayla?” Callum said, turning to look over at her.

Her head was slumped against her shoulder, her body resting in a strange, half-slumped position between leaning against the wall and lying on the bed. Half of her hair had fallen into her face, and a few strands flew out with every exhale. She was quite thoroughly asleep, and must have been for quite some time.

He looked across the room. Ezran was asleep as well, hugging Bait to his chest as he lay curled into a small little ball. As usual, a small amount of drool was leaking out of his open mouth, onto Bait’s head.

Callum sighed and smiled softly as he looked at both of them. Sighing gently, he closed his book carefully and set it on his drawer. He stood slowly, so as to not disturb the bed and wake Rayla.

“Rayla,” he called softly, turning to shake her shoulders gently. “Rayla, you fell asleep.”

“Mmm,” she groaned softly, as her head only lolled further against her shoulder.

Callum couldn’t help the way his smile grew as he looked at her. Her cheek was squished adorably into her shoulder, and her lips were tucked gently into a smile in her sleep.

She looked…peaceful. Happy. She’d been so worried lately―as lately as just a few minutes ago―and it was nice to see her relaxed, even if it wasn’t conscious. And with the new moon and how ill she had seemed…Callum couldn’t wake her.

So instead, smile still on his face, he gently took her shoulders and lay her down on the bed, making sure her head was comfortably against his pillow. He tucked the blanket up around her chin too, and brushed a stray hair out of her face on instinct.

And now he had to find somewhere for him to sleep. The dormitory beds were too small for more than one person―not that he would share with Ezran, for fear of interrupting his sleep, and Callum’s face burned even thinking of doing the same with Rayla―so the floor seemed to be the most viable option. 

Yay.

Still, as long as Rayla and Ezran could get a good night’s sleep…

Callum quietly opened one of his drawers and pulled out a spare jacket to use as a pillow, along with a thin, holey blanket that he sometimes used when the dorm got too hot. Still smiling to himself as he passed the two sleeping figures on the beds, he balled up the jacket and curled up on the floor.

“Goodnight, guys,” he whispered.

**< |>**

Rayla woke to the sound of frantic muttering in the night.

For a moment, she was completely and utterly disoriented. Where was she? This didn’t smell like her dorm room. And the blanket covering her―it was a lot fluffier than her worn-out comforter. It was the muttering of a male voice, however, that cinched it for her.

Blinking the bleariness away, Rayla pushed herself up on an elbow and tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked around.

Now she remembered. She must have fallen asleep― _ was this Callum’s bed?! _

She stifled a yelp of surprise, and the struggle to stay quiet was only intensified by the sight of the poor human boy curled into a ball on the floor.

He seemed to be having some sort of nightmare. The single, thin blanket he had was tangled around his legs, and his hands, clutched to his chest in his sleep, were in tight fists. His brow was furrowed, his eyes screwed tightly shut, and he was whimpering in his sleep.

Rayla sat up completely, concern pinning her ears to the side of her head. She held her breath, listening hard to hear what it was that he was saying.

“Dad, no…not you too…not…Viren!” Callum gasped in his sleep, and it was then that Rayla realized he was crying, tears running down his face in thick droplets.

She was up in a split second, glancing across the room to see that Ezran was still asleep, before kneeling down by Callum’s side.

“Callum!” she whispered. “Callum, wake up! It’s just a dream!”

He jerked awake with another gasp, green eyes staring up at her, welling with moisture. “R-Rayla?”

“It’s okay, Callum it was just a nightmare,” she whispered to him.

He blinked at her once, twice. Then another sob escaped his lips and he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

She returned the hug without hesitation, rubbing circles in the small of his back as he cried softly into her neck. “Shh, shh. It was just a dream, Callum. It wasn’t real.”

He sniffled against the fabric of her jacket and muttered softly, “But it was, Rayla.”

His voice was so…broken.

Before she knew it, she could feel tears welling in her own eyes. Callum didn’t deserved to feel this way.  _ No one _ deserved to feel that way, but especially not someone as sweet and kind as Callum.

She’d never seen him so vulnerable and fractured before, and it awakened a protective instinct in her stronger than anything she’d experienced so far. But there was nothing physically there for her to fight, so the best she could do was just be there for him.

“Do…do you want to talk about it?” she whispered to him.

He sniffled again, face still hidden against her shoulder. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and so for a long time they just sat there on the floor, arms around the other. 

Then he spoke again. “Not here.”

Rayla immediately understood. Ezran was still sleeping, and it was a miracle he hadn’t woken up already. If he woke while Callum spoke about a nightmare…a nightmare that had something to do with Viren…well, she could imagine that the young boy wouldn’t take it very well.

“Okay,” she whispered back. “Okay. Do you wanna go somewhere else?”

He nodded mutely.

“All right.” She gave Callum a quick squeeze and then released him from the hug. His eyes were bloodshot and had bags underneath them, but they were mostly dry. His hair was a mess and he looked absolutely miserable. It made Rayla’s heart twist painfully in her chest.

She took his hands and pulled him to his feet, and he followed along blankly. On a whim, she grabbed the thin blanket he’d been using off the floor and tossed it over her shoulder. “Follow me, okay?”

Another silent nod. She missed his voice already.

Rayla glanced back at Ezran to make sure he was still asleep. His face was buried even further into his pillow and a soft snore escaped his lips. Bait growled in his sleep as well. She smiled to herself before she led Callum to the door.

The roof was just as grimy as she remembered, if not more so after a month. It was dark up there, more so than usual, because the sky was overcast and there was no moon to provide light anyway. Fortunately, there was nothing for them to trip over.She led Callum over to the middle of the roof and laid the blanket down on the f;lat surface. She sat down on top of it, and Callum sat next to her wordlessly.

For a few minutes, they were silent, which was perfectly fine. Rayla didn’t want to rush him, for she knew just how hard it could be to talk about these things.

“I’d gone into my step-dad’s office for a pencil,” Callum said, suddenly and softly. Rayla leaned back on her hands and watched him.

He was fiddling with his hands, looking off into the distance like he was in a completely different place. She suspected he was.

“But, uh, V-Viren and my step-dad came in, and I wasn’t supposed to be in there, so I hid under the desk. They started to arg-argue about some project that Viren wanted to get done, but my dad denied it, and Viren got mad, and he―he…”

Callum stopped, and the tears began spilling down his face again. Rayla felt her brows knit together in sympathy, and she grabbed his hand for support. He didn’t look at her, but he gripped her hand tightly in response.

And then he started vomiting words, barely pausing for breath.

“And then he just―he just pulled out his dark magic book and he started casting spells and my dad couldn’t do anything other than run away and the desk got hit and dad got so mad that he started going after Viren with the sword he had hanging on his wall, and Viren just  _ hit _ him with that horrible, awful dark magic and killed him and then Viren looked at me and he said that I was a witness and―and…”

Callum collapsed into tears, his whole body shaking with the weight of his grief. Immediately, Rayla scooted closer and placed her arms around him once again. He slumped against her, burying his face in her jacket as he sobbed. She found herself mirroring their situation from just a few minutes before as she squeezed him tightly and rubbed his back.

“Oh, Callum,” she said as the wind blew on them. “I’m so,  _ so  _ sorry.”

“He―he just  _ killed _ him, without a second thought! Like…like he was nothing! Like my dad meant nothing to anyone! And it was right in front of me and I could see and smell everything and it was horrible, it was awful Rayla, and―”

“Breathe, Callum,” she told him, speaking to the side of his head. “You need to take a breath.”

“Right. Breathe. I can do that. Breathing. Got it.”

He didn’t seem to get it, so Rayla helped the only way she could―by taking big, deep breaths. After a moment, Callum tried his best to follow along, breathing in sync with her for several minutes until she was confident he could do it on his own. This sort of thing is what Runaan had done with her when she was young and had had a bad nightmare, and it had always worked.

“I dream of it every night,” Callum eventually said in a calmer, if still heartbroken, voice.

So that’s why the nightmare had been so bad. She figured it had to be, if it could shake someone as cheery as Callum, even after everything he had been through. Rewatching a monster of a man kill your father every single night…it was a wonder he was still sane.

“I’m so sorry, Callum,” Rayla said, giving him a tight squeeze. “I’m sorry that Viren killed your step-father, and I’m really sorry that you had to watch it.”

He was silent for a moment, then he sniffled again and released her. His shoulders were still slumped and his scarf hung limply around his neck, but he did seem to be doing better than when he first woke up.

“I just―” He wiped his eyes. “I’m just so… _ angry _ , Rayla. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever saw Viren’s face. I can barely even say his name without feeling…” 

He trailed off, but he didn’t have to finish. She knew exactly what he meant.

She hesitated for a moment, and the wind blew in the silence between them.

“Did I ever tell you about my parents?” she eventually said. Of course, she hadn’t, but it was as good a start as any.

Callum looked over at her, and now there was curiosity mixed in with the sorrow of his green eyes. “No. But you don’t…don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Rayla gave him a small smile. “It’s okay.”

She tucked her knees under her chin, and then it was her turn to stare off into the distance. “They…they died when I was young. I was taken in by Runaan, and he…well, he’s the one who taught me how to do all the stuff I can do.”

It was also Callum’s turn to grip her hand, and she jumped, for she hadn’t realized that tears had started to well in her eyes. She sent him a grateful smile. Holding onto his hand made her feel more anchored. Like she was there with him, on the roof, instead of back... _ there _ , on the beach from so long ago.

“Did…” Callum gulped. “Did they die peacefully?”

She waited a long time before she said anything. 

And then she lied.

“Yeah,” she said. “They did. It was painless.”

Callum didn’t need another sob story. He was so kind-hearted that he would focus on her pain and trauma instead of processing his own.

“Good,” he said, giving her a small smile. “But I’m sorry to hear about it either way.”

The smile she gave him in return was so small as to be nonexistent. “Thank you.” She swallowed. “Even so, I understand the anger. That’s why Runaan taught me how to fight; to find a way to release all that anger healthily.”

“Healthy release,” Callum said, sighing as he rested his head in his free hand, and his hand on his knee. “Right.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “It helps to  _ talk  _ about it, Callum. Have you told anyone but me about this?”

He shook his head. “It’s…kind of hard when you’re hiding out in a country that hates your race and everyone thinks you’re still mute.”

She let loose a small chuckle. “Yeah, I suppose so. But…I want you to know that you can always talk to me, okay? About anything. You’re…you’re my friend.”  _ My best friend. _ But he didn’t need to know that part. How sad was it that her best friend was a human she had only met a month and a half ago?

Callum turned his head so that his cheek was resting against his knee. “You know, Rayla, if most elves are like you, then they can’t be all that bad.”

A fiery blush erupted on her cheeks, and she was glad it was too dark for him to be able to see it. Her heart went  _ ba-dump,  _ and then her mouth went, “And if all humans are like you, Callum, then they can’t be that bad either.”

He grinned at her―a full grin―and Rayla’s heart did a little sweep in her chest. She attributed it to the cold of the roof forcing her body to heat up, even though a voice in the back of her head told her that wasn’t how it worked.

As if on cue, Callum shivered suddenly and violently, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Hey, you okay?” Rayla asked. She took one of the loose ends of the blanket and threw it over him. It only reached his knees, barely. She sighed. “We should go back inside before you catch a cold. If you’re okay, that is.”

Callum cocked his head at her. “I’m…actually better now. Besides, it’s probably better for  _ you  _ if we go inside.”

She blinked at him. “What? Why?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Rayla, it’s the new moon, remember? You look terrible.”

Rayla physically flinched. She had completely forgotten about her own misery―which suddenly hit her like a truck―because of his problems. That was…a bit concerning.

But she wouldn’t have it any other way.

And yet, the only thing that she could think to have come out of her mouth was, “Thanks, Callum. Because that’s exactly what all girls want to hear.”

He was silent for a moment (which she suspected was full of his face heating up) before he stammered out, “No, that’s…that’s not what I meant!”

She grinned. “Okay, smooth prince. Let’s just get you back to your dorm room before we both freeze to death.”

Callum hesitated as she stood, but he spoke when she offered him a hand up. “Would…would you…maybe…” He muttered something indistinctly.

Rayla frowned. “Would I  _ what?” _

He cleared his throat. “Would you maybe, uh…stay? In m-my room?” He hid his face in his hands almost immediately after, his next words hardly audible. “It’s o-okay if you don’t, but I just really don't wanna have another nightmare and you’re my friend too and you make me feel safe and―”

“Callum,” Rayla said, grabbing one of his elbows and prying a hand away from his face. In the darkness, she could barely make out his eyes staring up at her apprehensively. “I’ll do it.”

He grinned at her again, without warning. “You will? Oh, thank you, Rayla!” He stood quickly and gave her a quick hug, which she was utterly unprepared for.

“On one condition,” she said when he had pulled away and the shock had warned off. “ _ You  _ sleep on the bed this time.”

He immediately protested. “Rayla, it’s the night of the new―”

She was too tired for him. She slapped a hand over his mouth to stop him from talking. “Callum. You just had a bad nightmare and cried your eyes out.  _ You  _ need the bed.” She felt his mouth begin to move under her hand, and tightened her grip on his jaw. “Besides, if you don’t take the bed, I’ll wake Ezran and he’ll agree with me.”

Callum’s eyes narrowed at her. She could see that much. The moment she removed her hand from his face, he started talking again.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

She responded without thinking. 

“I’d do anything to make sure you’re taken care of.”

_ Ba-dump. _

Had she said that out loud?

She could see Callum’s wide eyes, and she could feel the intense rush of heat to both her face and her ears, but she cleared her throat and moved past it, hoping that he would forget about what she had said soon enough. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Callum cleared his throat too. “Fine. But  _ you  _ get the nice blanket.”

Rayla thought about protesting, but the hard look in his eyes―visible despite the darkness all around―quickly made her think otherwise. 

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “Deal?” She stuck a hand out for him to shake. That was a custom that both humans and elves shared.

He nodded and shook her hand. “Deal.”

She tried not to think about how nicely his five-fingered hand fit with hers.

**< |>**

This time, Rayla woke much more peacefully.

It was a gradual awakening, full of pleasant smells and nice dreams. She found herself smiling in her sleep, hugging something to her chest. But it was the smell of jasmine that woke her, for it reminded her of her early childhood, and she knew that that couldn’t be right.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she found herself blinking away the haze of sleep. What time was it? Where was she? Why did this room smell so good?

She rubbed her eyes and sat up, realizing that she was holding something in her arms. Blinking away a sleep crusty, she looked down, only to realize that she was holding a blue jacket in her arms. Callum’s jacket?

She flinched. That’s right―she’d used it as a pillow last night! And she’d…ended up cuddling it in her sleep. 

Well. That didn’t mean anything, right?

“Oh, good, you’re finally awake.”

She flinched so hard she was sure she threw out a disc in her back, but managed not to cry out. She looked across the room, where Callum stood.

His clothes were all mussed up and he wasn’t wearing his jacket or his scarf for once, which exposed both his neck and his arms in a way that she did  _ not  _ notice. Not at all. He was standing in front of the dresser, where he appeared to be stirring something.

Rayla groaned as a headache suddenly struck her. “Hrnn…is that tea?”

Callum grinned over at her from the dresser, where indeed two cups of steaming tea sat. “Yep! I figured you could use it after the new moon last night and staying up so late.” He paused a moment, cocking his head at her. “You know, you’re very charming when you’re half-asleep. You kept muttering stuff about moonberry juice.”

_ Ba-dump. _ Rayla blinked and felt her heart start to drum on the inside of her ribcage at the realization that Callum had been watching her in her sleep.Her ears reddened like they were in the afternoon sun, but oddly, she didn’t feel creeped out. Just the opposite, in fact.

“Uh,” she managed to squeak out. “Thanks. C-can I have some of that tea?”

Callum didn’t seem to realize how his actions had affected her, and, nodding, lifted up the tea cups to bring over to her. He nearly tripped on the way over, but managed to recover in time without spilling any of the tea. 

Rayla snorted as he leaned down to give her one of the cups, which she took gladly. It was the perfect temperature, warming her cold fingers nicely. She sat up further, resting her back against the wall, to take a sip. She grinned immediately.

“This is my favorite!” she exclaimed. “How did you know?”

He sent her a nervous grin. “You…may have muttered it in your sleep.”

She blinked at him twice. “Wait, what time is it?”

“Oh, uh…” He cleared his throat. “It’s about ten in the morning. I’ve been up for an hour already, and Ez is still sleeping.”

Rayla forced herself to take a breath before she spoke. Ezran was indeed still asleep, and passed out on the bed next to her, and she didn’t want to wake him. So she spoke in a calm voice, though her accent did still slip out. “Callum, what is my roomate goin’ ta think? Most of my classes are cancelled today ‘cause of the new moon and all, but I never came back ta the room last night.”

His grin disappeared. “Oh. Uh. I didn’t think about that.”

She sighed and rested her head against the wall. She took another sip of the tea and allowed it to clear her head a bit. That is, before Callum spoke again.

“You, uh,” he started, “You should let your accent out more. It’s cute.”

Rayla’s brain made a little confused crackling sound, like a miniscule firework had gone off in her head. She nearly spilled her tea all over herself.

“O-oh,” her mouth said, without her permission. “Th-thats―I mean, I―you―”

It was then that Callum seemed to realize what it was that he had said.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, face turning as red as his scarf. “I-I mean, you’re―no, you―that is to say, I―”

_ “Please _ be quiet,” Ezran’s muffled voice came from his bed. His head was stuffed against his pillow. “I’m  _ trying  _ to sleep!”

Callum chuckled, and it seemed to dissolve the awkwardness in the room. “Ez, it’s ten in the morning! You’ve slept plenty long.”

The smaller human grunted in response. Next to him, Bait growled something out in his glow-toad language. Ezran snorted into his pillow. 

“Bait says you two had an interesting night.”

And just like that, the awkwardness returned in full-force. Rayla did  _ not  _ choke on her tea.

She cleared her throat. “I should…I should check in with Luna. She might be worried.”

“Yep!” Callum said, voice cracking. “Yep, you should do that.”

Rayla stood hastily, sucking down the rest of her tea without tasting it. “I’m―going to go. Now. Good day.”

“Bye,” Callum said, burying his face in his teacup.

She stumbled to the door, put the cup on the dresser, muttered a thanks, and rushed out the door. Almost immediately, she placed her back against the wooden door and breathed a sigh of relief. It was so much cooler in the hallway, and too hot in the small dorm room.

What was that about?

**< |>**

Ezran sat up and gave Callum a  _ look. _

Callum dared to lift his face from his teacup. “What? What’s that look for?”

His little brother sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

Callum frowned as Ezran buried his face in his pillow again. 

What was that about?

**< |>**

That night, his bed still smelled like Rayla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the tea. Pardon the pun.  
> This chapter was so much fun to write! But I feel bad because Gilavor really wasn’t in this chapter much. HOWEVER, his time is coming in the next few chapters!   
> Anyway. Shameless plug: I’m a really competitive person, and @Elite_7 and I have a poll running on twitter to decide which one of our OCs is better―my Gilavor against her Longhorn from her fic Katolis University: New Order (which y’all should TOTALLY read). SO you guys should totally go vote for Gilavor! My twitter is noname4hire_ao3. No, this is TOTALLY not another attempt to get more followers, I would NEVER…  
> Thanks to @margoot for proofreading this chapter! She writes a fic called In Our Heads, and it’s really great! Y’all should also read that!  
> Oh, and things are going to heat up (in more ways than one) in these next chapters.  
> None of you are ready.


	13. An Unexpected Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please," she said, "don't let it destroy you too."

“Good afternoon,” Rayla yawned as she set her tray down at the lunch table the next day. 

The new moon of two days previous hadn’t been as bad as the one from a month earlier, but nonetheless, she still felt the effects. It was clear that the others could still feel it as well.

Zell was slouched in her seat, head resting on her hand as she read a textbook about the power of the moon. Next to her, Kale munched on starfruit tree bark (which was surprisingly very nutritious) as Cressida napped on his shoulder. Atlas was the only one who looked relatively awake, and was seemingly doing homework with one hand and eating with the other.

“Hullo,” Kale said, looking up at Rayla. He sent a suggestive look her way. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Rayla frowned at him. “My…boyfriend?”

“Callum,” Zell said without looking up from her book. 

Rayla choked on her starfruit, coughing up bits of her lunch all over her friends. “Echh-achh― _ what!? _ ” She pounded on her chest and cleared her throat a few more times before trying to speak again. “Callum and I are  _ not _ ―we’re―that’s―what even gave you that crazy idea?”

“Oh, nothing,” Cressida said, perking up suddenly. She wagged her eyebrows suggestively. “It’s just that you two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

Rayla chuckled in a way that was definitely  _ not  _ nervous. “We―that’s―you―no we haven’t!”

“Whatever you say,” Atlas chimed in. “But  _ I  _ heard that someone saw you coming out of Callum’s room yesterday morning. And  _ Luna _ said that you never came back to the dorm the night before.”

Rayla’s face was a furnace, and her pulse pounded anxiously in her ears. “It’s not what you’re thinking!” she exclaimed in a voice that was an octave higher than usual.

“Relax, Rayla, we’re just teasing you,” Cressida replied with a snort. “Besides, I’m sure you had a perfectly good reason for being alone in his room with him. All night.”

Fortunately, a tray set itself down on the table before Rayla had to come up with a reasonable excuse.

Actually, scratch that. It wasn’t fortunate at all, because the person the tray belonged to was none other than Callum himself.

_ “Are you okay, Ray?” _ he signed at her as he sat down.  _ “Your face is really red.” _

“I’m fayne,” she denied, though she knew the slip of her accent and the snorts of her friends at the table betrayed her.

Callum gave her a  _ look,  _ one clearly decipherable as  _ I don’t believe you, _ but he signed,  _ “Okay.” _

“So, Callum,” Kale said, leaning forward in his seat, “how did you sleep last night?”

Oh, it was a wonder Callum had managed to deceive anyone at the university for so long, for his face turned as red as a venenum plant. His fingers started to stumble through an excuse, but Rayla was already on top of it.

“What’s that, Zell?” she interrupted, pointing at Zell’s book, which had an envelope sticking out of the pages.

Rayla heard Callum breathe a sigh of relief next to her as Zell’s head perked up from her reading. He shot her a grateful look as he took a swig out of the bottle on his tray.

“Oh!” she said. “Thanks for reminding me, Rayla.” She plucked the envelope from the pages of the book with nimble fingers and held it out to Kale next to her. “Mom sent us a letter, by the way.”

Callum choked on his moonberry juice. Rayla recoiled as the red liquid sprayed all over, and the others at the table did too. Cressida physically jumped away to avoid the spray, and Kale ducked under the table.

“Callum!” Zell protested, wiping juice off the cover of her textbook.

_ “Sorry!” _ Callum signed even as he finished coughing.  _ “I just―didn’t know you two were siblings!” _

Kale’s face dropped as Rayla translated. He fixed his hair as he said, “Well, maybe you would be aware of that if you had spent more time around us.”

If Callum had been taking another drink, he would have spit it all out again. In her chest, Rayla felt a painful twinge.

They…they  _ had _ been rather busy lately, hadn’t they? With all of the business of getting Callum up to speed on his primal magic, Rayla had barely even considered the fact that she’d been neglecting other things―including her friends.

That…wasn’t a good thing.

_ “I’m so sorry,”  _ Callum signed, and she could tell by the guilt on his face―seriously, how had he survived until now when he showed all of his emotions on his face?―that he meant it.  _ “I’ve just been very busy lately with…my studies.” _

Atlas shrugged as Rayla translated. “It’s no problem. Everyone gets busy sometimes, right guys?”

The others shrugged as well, but Rayla didn’t buy their nonchalant act. She hadn’t known them as long as they’d known each other, but she still considered them good friends (some of her  _ only _ friends, actually), and she hated the idea of ignoring them. She resolved to herself that she’d find something to do with them soon. As long as Callum didn’t get killed before that happened.

“Anyway,” Kale said, interrupting Rayla’s train of thought. Zell waved the letter in front of Kale’s face, and he batted the envelope away. “What’s the point? Mom probably just filled this thing with more of her blood moon superstition nonsense.”

Zell rolled her eyes. “It is  _ not _ superstitious nonsense! There are plenty of scientific theories and research articles to support **―** ”

_ “What are they talking about?” _ Callum signed to Rayla as Zell and Kale began to argue.

Rayla sighed and whispered back, “Some…magical nonsense. There are a couple scholars or something that think blood moons have special properties, or…something. But there hasn’t been a blood moon in hundreds of years, so no one really knows.”

_ “Is there one coming up soon?” _

“Apparently. I…don’t really pay much attention to stuff like that.” Rayla frowned. “Guess that makes me a pretty shabby Moonshadow elf.”

Callum gave her one of those  _ smiles _ .  _ “Well, I think you’re a  _ great  _ Moonshadow elf.” _

She cleared her throat and focused on stabbing her vegetables with a fork so he couldn’t see the red in her ears. “Heh. Thanks.”

Kale groaned suddenly, leaning back so far in his seat that Rayla was afraid he might fall onto the floor. “Zell, Mom’s just being paranoid, let it  _ go!” _

“Never!”

Cressida and Atlas both snorted at nearly the same time, which immediately drew both Kale and Zell’s attention to them. 

“Well, what do you two think?”

Rayla stared at her food, trying hard not to laugh, as the argument only intensified. She’d listened enough in her illusion classes to know that scholars had been arguing about blood moons for a long time. If there hadn’t been one measly record that was actually credible a while ago, even Professor Lujanne had admitted that she wouldn’t have thought blood moons were real.

Besides, Rayla already had enough on her plate to worry about. A blood moon was just a bunch of nonsense, right?

**< |>**

“Wow,” Callum said in an undertone later that day. “I can’t believe I’ve been so oblivious.”

“Oblivious about what?” Rayla asked.

“About…you know, about the others. I didn’t even know Zell and Kale were siblings, for crying out loud!”

She elbowed him in the side, hard, and he yelped in pain.

“Speaking of which, maybe you can ‘cry out quiet?’” she hissed at him. “We’re in public, Cal.”

“Oh,” he said in an even quieter voice. “That’s right. Sorry.”

Rayla rolled her eyes at him, but he couldn’t help but grin and knock his shoulder into hers as they walked. She narrowed her eyes at him, but waited until a group of Sunfire elves passed by before kicking his heel, knocking him off balance and making him stumble for a few feet before be managed to catch himself on the wall of a dorm.

Rayla burst into laughter, covering her mouth and clutching her gut as she steadied herself against a tree. After a moment, Callum joined in, but he tried to be quiet in how he laughed―which of course only made things worse. He turned into a giggling, snorting mess, and that only made Rayla laugh harder as well.

They only stopped when a group of Moonshadow elves passed by and gave them funny looks, and even then Callum couldn’t stop a giggle or two from escaping.

“Pfft,” Rayla snorted as they stepped back on the concrete path. “You’re such an adorable dork.”

Callum grinned at her. “You’re one to talk.”

“Ha ha, smooth prince. Let’s just get to Sylva Field before fencing practice starts. You wanna find a good seat, don’t you?”

Callum grunted knowingly at that. With the announcement that Xadia Academy would be dueling with Katolis University, there were a lot more people in sidelines during the fencing team’s practice. It meant he had to be a lot more careful when he watched them practice.

“Fine,” he said, kicking a rock and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s―”

“There they are!” a harsh voice suddenly exclaimed.

Rayla and Callum spun. Behind them, Talvo stood, along with two other goons. All of them looked very, very agitated.

“Fuck,” Rayla muttered.

Callum looked over at her, wide-eyed. If she was worried, then he should  _ definitely _ be worried. Before he had a minute to even process, she grabbed his hand tightly.

“Run!”

He gasped in pain as she yanked his arm, hard, and started sprinting in the opposite direction of the bully and his friends.

Callum had never claimed to be a very good runner, but he found himself trailing just behind Rayla―who was  _ fast _ ―in his desperation to get away from Talvo. Callum could hear the feet of the bullies pounding against the pavement behind them, and had to fight to keep the panic out of his brain.

Rayla dragged him past several groups of students at high speed, and Callum felt a sting behind his ear as someone’s bag hit the side of his head. But it was better than a beatdown from Talvo.

Callum’s boots skidded on the cement as Rayla (who was still gripping his hand) dragged him around a tight corner―a corner that led directly to a dead end.

She cursed again as she skidded to a stop. Callum, on the other hand, was not as lucky. He wasn’t expecting the chase to end so quickly and he was by no means as graceful as his partner-in-crime, which of course meant he ran face-first into the brick wall of the dormitory.

_ BANG! _

The world blacked out for a moment, and then the next thing he knew he was lying on the ground, looking up at the sky through hazed vision. Rayla crouched over him a split second later, uttering another vulgar curse.

“Are you okay?” she asked, touching his head gently.

Callum hissed in pain as her hand brushed over his forehead, and had to blink a few times to make sure that the droplets of blood that covered her hands were real. 

“Here, sit up,” Rayla told him, grabbing his shoulders and helping to put him in a sitting position. Immediately, the world spun, and it was only when his back was resting against the rough wall behind him that he was able to get his bearings. Blood was dripping down his face, originating from a gash in his forehead.

“You might have a concussion,” she said, and it took his eyes a moment to focus on her. Her violet eyes were wide and concerned, and even in his dazed state he could see the guilt written all over her face. “I’m sorry, Callum.”

He blinked twice before his tongue was able to work. “It’s…not your fault. I’m just not very good at running.” Ironic, really, considering where he was. He looked behind her, at the mouth of the alley they had entered. “Hey, maybe they forgot about us.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, there was a shout from outside the alley, and Talvo and his goons appeared immediately after. All of them were panting and covered in sweat, and they appeared just as angry as before, if not more.

Rayla straightened. Even seated on the ground and concussed as he was, he could see from the way her shoulders were squared and her clenched fists that she was  _ angry. _ But she kept her hands away from her back, where he knew her swords were secretly stashed for later.

“What’s your problem, Talvo?” she demanded in a harsh voice. “What, sneaking a snake into Callum’s dorm room wasn’t enough for you? You need to beat him up yourself?”

Callum’s eyes flicked to Talvo just in time to see confusion flicker across his face, but it was gone after a moment. Talvo took a step forward, and so did the two tall Sunfire elves behind him. Callum focused on the two strangers as Talvo started to flex. One of them had long brown hair tied back into a ponytail, and the other had dark black hair cut so short that it hugged his skull almost comically.

“Just give us the pipsqueak, Rayla, and we won’t hurt you,” Talvo said, grinning menacingly, like a wolf before it pounced.

Rayla didn’t budge. “What do you even hate Callum for? He hasn’t done anything to you!”

The big Sunfire elf hesitated for a moment, and Callum pushed himself into a better sitting position. What if…

What if Talvo knew Callum was a human?

It was the only explanation for why he had been constantly going after him, and why he placed that Venomgrowth snake in his dorm room. If Aaravos had indeed bribed Talvo to place the snake in Callum’s room as Gilavor had suggested, then it was likely that he might have told Talvo the truth.

“That’s none of your business,” Talvo said, interrupting Callum’s panicked downward spiral. “Now get out of the way.”

“Never,” Rayla growled, fists visibly clenching even tighter. “If you want to get to Callum, you’ll have to go through me.”

Callum’s eyes widened. She couldn’t be serious, could she? They were in an enclosed alley, and it was three against one. It was unlikely that anyone would hear a fight, which meant that she would be completely and utterly on her own.

But before he could protest―he could take a beating, if it meant she would remain unharmed!―Rayla took a step forward, and the fight began.

The two strangers lunged for her simultaneously, but Rayla leaped into the air, kicked off the wall, and slammed her fist into the face of the elf with the short hair, hard. He staggered away, cursing, and she took the opening to kick the long-haired bully in front of her in the groin before she swung her fist into his face with a mighty  _ crack! _

The Sunfire elf with the ponytail tripped backwards, falling right into the semi-recovered elf with a buzzcut. They both fell to the ground with a hard  _ thud, _ and as soon as the long-haired elf knew what had happened, he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the alley. Callum swore he heard Rayla chuckle at that, but her amusement didn’t have a chance to last long.

She quickly spun out of the way as Talvo jumped forward in an attempt to grab her and bashed his nose with her elbow as she did. Then she ducked another swing from the other Sunfire elf (who had managed to get to his feet in time), slammed her foot firmly into his ribs, and then brought it up to crack into his chin in one smooth motion.

She backed away suddenly, bouncing on the balls of her feet in a ready position, her fists up to protect her face and her midsection. Even from the angle Callum was at, he could see that her face was set in a fierce expression, and she didn’t appear to be out of breath at all.

The bullies, on the other hand, seemed to have suffered a fair bit. Talvo’s nose was bleeding profusely, and the elf with the short hair was clutching his chest with his free hand and wheezing loudly. With just a few moves, she had crippled the two that remained and scared the third away.

Callum suddenly became aware that his jaw was dusting the ground. She…wow. She was amazing. Of course she was, she was Rayla.

“Boo,” Rayla said with a confident smirk, faking a lunge forward.

Immediately, the second Sunfire elf flinched backwards, nearly falling over onto the ground for the second time. He sent Talvo an apologetic look and stumbled at high speed out of the alley.

It wasn’t much of a competition from there. Talvo growled a curse at Rayla and swung a wild punch at her, but she was already ahead of him. In movements so quick that Callum could barely follow along, she grabbed Talvo’s arm and flipped him over her shoulder, using his own size and momentum against him. He smacked into the ground with a meaty  _ thud, _ right next to where Callum sat.

Callum managed to scramble to his feet to get away from the giant bully, but Rayla had already put a foot on Talvo’s chest to keep him in place.

“Now,” she said in a voice that was absolutely  _ livid, _ “why don’t you tell us why you’re so set on beating Callum to a pulp?”

Talvo said nothing. Callum put a hand on the wall to steady himself as Rayla put just a  _ little  _ more pressure on his chest. 

“Come on!” Rayla said, fists clenching one more. Her eyes were narrowed fiercely. “We know you put a Venomgrowth snake egg in Callum’s room!”

And there was the confusion in his eyes again. But before Callum could analyze it further, Talvo cracked as Rayla increased the power of her glare.

“What are you  _ talking  _ about?” he demanded, voice cracking in a very un-tough manner, eyes wild. “I don’t even know where his dorm room  _ is!” _

“Don’t lie!”

Callum put a hand on her shoulder. Her muscles were tensed into tight bunches. “Rayla,” he said softly. “I think he’s telling the truth. Look at him.”

Rayla gave Callum a skeptical look, but she did what he asked. Immediately, he could tell that she could see what he did: Talvo was as confused and angry as they were, and didn’t understand what was going on.

Her shoulders slumped, and she took her foot off his chest. Talvo didn’t move, staring at them confusedly. 

“ _ Why _ do you hate Callum so much?” Rayla asked, in a voice that was much more tired than it had been just a minute before.

Talvo glared at them. Then, slowly, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a piece of parchment. Even more confused than he had been a moment before, Callum carefully took the piece of paper from his hand and read it.

He didn’t get very far before he had to stop, eyes bulging out of his head. The page was filled with all sorts of insults in sloppy handwriting, and each insult was aimed at a specific person. At the bottom, Callum’s name was signed in handwriting that was definitely  _ not  _ his.

“Who’s…Meira?” Rayla asked, reading over Callum’s shoulder with eyes just as wide and shocked as his.

“She’s my sister,” Talvo spat, glaring at Callum. “And she’s got cerebral palsy.”

Callum wanted to vomit.  _ That’s _ why the insults on the note were so…specific, to put it mildly. No wonder Talvo hated his guts; if anyone said anything remotely similar about Aunt Amaya and her deafness, Callum would be willing to crack a few heads himself―despite the fact that his aunt was perfectly capable of doing that herself.

“I didn’t write this letter,” he said in a firm voice, despite the warning hiss that Rayla gave him. “I would  _ never  _ write anything like this. This isn’t even my handwriting! Here, I’ll prove it to you.”

Callum took the sketchbook from off his hip and flipped to one of the pages in the middle, where he had communicated with one of his professors via notes. His handwriting was much neater and much more accurate than that of whoever had written the letter to Talvo. He flipped his book around and showed the bully, and his eyes widened.

“Well, if you didn’t write this…then who did?” Talvo asked, taking the letter back from Rayla and crumpling it into a ball, which then promptly exploded into flames as he threw it over his shoulder.

“Aaravos,” Rayla growled. “He wanted someone to beat up on you, Callum, to try and get you out of the way.”

“I don’t think so,” Callum said, frowning. “We saw his handwriting on the chalkboard, remember? Whoever wrote this, it wasn’t him. Maybe someone who’s working for him.”

“Like whoever put that snake in your room! It has to be the same person!”

“Uhh,” Talvo interrupted, dusting himself off as he stood, “whatever you guys are into, it sounds like it doesn’t involve me, so I’m just gonna―”

Rayla narrowed her eyes at him and stepped forward, raising one of her fists menacingly. “And you won’t tell anyone about Callum’s voice?”

Talvo’s golden eyes slid over her to glance at Callum, then looked back at her. Was Callum imagining things, or did he seem intimidated?

“Uh, yeah,” Talvo said. “Yeah, I won’t say anything.”

“Good,” Rayla replied. She jerked her head toward the mouth of the alley. “Now get out of here.”

Talvo didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled out of the alley, trying his best to maintain what dignity he had left at the same time, which didn’t exactly work out too well for him.

But he paused at the entrance to the alleyway, looking back at them with something that almost seemed like remorse on his face.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly, before running out of the alley.

Callum slumped against the wall as soon as the bully (now ex-bully?) was gone. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Rayla agreed, then laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” he replied, wincing as the headache increased in intensity. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the king of the dragons. You’re concussed, Callum. Let’s find Gilavor so you can heal, okay?” Rayla gave him a meaningful look, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“Yeah, ok.” He paused as he pushed himself off the wall. “You’re amazing, by the way. The way you handled those guys?” He sighed. “Wow.”

She coughed and turned toward the face of the alley. Her face seemed a bit red, but it was probably from the exertion of kicking Talvo’s butt. “Uh…thanks.”

Before he could respond, the sound of running footsteps filled the alley. Callum and Rayla both tensed, but the person was not Talvo returning to get the last word.

“What happened here?” Gilavor demanded, skidding to a stop at the mouth of the alley. His hair was windswept and his face flushed, indicating that he had run quite a distance to get there. “I heard that there was a fight, and I figured it had to be you two.”

Callum groaned in response, leaning heavily on Rayla as the light of the sun decided to run laps on the inside of his skull. “Ouch.”

She put an arm around his shoulder to support him as she turned to Gilavor. “You guessed right. Do you have the primal stone?”

Gilavor shook his head. “No, I was on my way to go get it when I heard about what happened. I shouldn’t need it, though. There’s still plenty of sun left in the sky for me to heal that cut of yours.”

“Good,” Callum managed to say. “We should get out of here first, though. If you heard about the fight, then the administrators probably did too.”

_ And maybe, _ his addled brain thought,  _ the person who wrote that letter heard about it too. _

**< |>**

An hour later, Callum sat on the bleachers, his head finally clear. Gilavor had indeed been able to heal it before they got to Sylva Field, but then had to immediately leave to go get the sun primal stone from its hiding place. Callum made sure to sit at the top of the bleachers, far away from any of the other spectators watching the practice.

There was a small crowd of them, all elves of different kinds. There were a few who were actually interested in what was happening on the practice field, but most of them simply chatted amongst themselves and only paid attention when something interesting happened. Callum, for his part, tried to do a bit of both, sketching when the team ran through exercises and watching attentively when they began to spar. Rayla was especially captivating to watch fight, especially after what he had just witnessed in the alley.

He'd…gotten into the habit of watching her while she trained with the other elves, instead of doodling in his sketchbook or catching up on homework. She had a graceful sense of movement about her, something that he would never be able to match. When she moved, it was always on the balls of her feet, as if she were expecting danger to come swinging for her at any moment. Each movement flowed into the next like the strokes of paint on a canvas.

Yes, he'd spent far too much time watching her.

In his defense, he'd never really been interested in sword fighting before, always preferring his pencil and page over a sword and shield. But the way the Xadian elves fought was different than the way humans fought; there was a sort of art, or perhaps music, to how they did it. He found himself watching  _ all  _ of the elves, of course, but she was by far the best out of all of them and therefore the most interesting to watch.

Even though she had just been in a fight only an hour before, she still moved incredibly well. Every once in a while, he caught her wincing―presumably from a strained muscle―but it never slowed her down. She still swept the floor with all of the other opponents in sparring.

He hadn't even realized what he was doing until he heard Gilavor's snort. Startled, Callum nearly fell off the bleachers, letting out a small yelp as his sketchbook fell to the seat below him.

"Something about those fencers must be very captivating for you to stare like that," Gilavor said, cocking an eyebrow at him with an amused smile.

"Wh-what?" Callum stammered, hands patting around to find his sketchbook and charcoal pencil. He only found the latter, but when he turned back to his friend, he found Gilavor holding up his sketchbook―his  _ open  _ sketchbook.

Another yelp of surprise, this one more desperate. Callum snatched the book out of Gilavor's hands before he could get a good look at the sketches of Rayla that were prevalent on the pages. Judging by the look on the half-elf's face, he had already seen everything he needed to.

"I―I don't know what you're talking about," Callum denied in a hoarse whisper, knowing that Gilavor didn't understand sign language and the fencers were too far away to hear him speaking.

Gilavor's face only grew in smugness, gray eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh,  _ puh-lease. _ You were practically drooling."

"I...I was not!"

“Sure, whatever you say,” the half-elf said with a wink.

“I―that’s―” Callum took a breath to calm his tumultuous heart. “Did you get the primal stone?”

“Of course I did,” Gilavor replied, tapping the small bag at his hip. “I’m all ready whenever this is over.”

“ _ Focus, _ Rayla!” a voice barked from the practice field. Callum and Gilavor turned to find the coach―a tall Skywing elf―crossing his arms as he glared at Rayla, who was picking herself up off the ground with a wince.

“Sorry, coach,” Rayla said in a voice barely audible from where Callum stood. “Guess my head’s not in the game today.”

“Well, get it in the game! The first match is in a few weeks, and I need you at your best! You’re best we have.”

“Won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

As practice resumed, Callum and Gilavor shared a look.

“What did you guys  _ do _ in that alley?” Gilavor asked him in a quiet voice, sitting next to him on the bleachers.

Callum sighed, rubbing the side of his head where a deep cut had been just an hour beforehand. “It’s…a bit of a tale.”

“We’ve got time.”

So, in a hushed voice that stuttered to a stop every time someone look back at them, he told Gilavor what had happened, including the bit about Talvo and his sister, and the letter someone had sent to Talvo, pretending to be Callum.

Gilavor’s gray eyes narrowed as Callum covered the portion of the tale that involved the letter.

“Why would anyone write something like that?” he demanded. “And who would try and blame it on you?”

“I don’t know,” Callum replkied, scratching his head. “Rayla and I think there must be someone else working with Aaravos, and that’s who put the snake in my room to try and get rid of me.”

“Could it be a student?” Gilavor theorized, caressing his chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe.” Callum sighed, rubbing his eyes. He still had a bit of a headache, though it was nowhere as bad as it had been. “Like you said, it would explain how that person got into my room in the first place. It would have been suspicious if a teacher had done it.”

Gilavor  _ hmm _ ed. “Could you try and match the handwriting from the letter to someone at the university?”

Callum groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I hadn’t thought of that! And no, we can’t, because Talvo burned the letter to ash when he realized it wasn’t me.”

“Sounds like Professor Aaravos has you right where he wants you,” Gilavor commented, patting Callum on the back sympathetically.

“At least he doesn’t know about all the training we’ve been doing,” he said. “At least there’s that. Should be a nice surprise for him.”

“Speaking of which,” Gilavor started, lowering his voice as a Moonshadow elf glanced up at them, “I feel like you haven’t told me everything about this ‘training’ and why you want it.”

“What do you mean?” Callum asked, brows furrowing. “I  _ did  _ tell you. This is to give us an edge against Aaravos and anyone working with him.”

“No, that’s what  _ I  _ told  _ you, _ ” Gilavor said, lifting a finger and pointing it in Callum’s face. “ _ You _ only started blathering on about how fascinating sun magic was.”

“Wha―because it  _ is  _ interesting! Have you ever considered that maybe I was just interested in the knowledge?”

“Under normal circumstances, I might accept that, but I also  _ know _ you, and what you’ve been through. You haven’t just been learning sun magic; you’ve been learning how to  _ fight, _ Callum.”

Callum glared at him. They spoke in hushed whispers, but he still felt as if they were having a loud argument. It was true; one of the things that Gilavor had taught him in the past few weeks was how to respond when someone launched a spell back at him, how to take a hit (that one was as early as the first lesson), how to not be “planted like a tree”…the list went on.

But before he could say anything else, the Skywing elf coach was shouting about how practice was over and people needed to leave the stands. That was their cue to hide behind the bleachers until Rayla gave them the okay.

Good. Maybe now Callum could have a minute to think.

**< |>**

Needless to say, Rayla was a bit irritable by the time she gave Callum and Gilavor the all-clear to come out from behind the bleachers. Not only had she been in a real fight earlier in the day―which she was  _ not  _ happy about―she had also let the news from Talvo distract her during fencing practice and had fallen on her face, scraping it up in several practices. And of course, she hadn’t mentioned it to the coach, who was busy watching the other fencers, because really it wasn’t that big of a deal and she hadn’t wanted to distract from practice any more than she already had. And of course, that meant she was really not in the mood for Gilavor and Callum’s reactions when they saw her.

“Gah!” Gilavor exclaimed, skipping back a little. “What happened to your face?”

“Sources, Rayla, are you all right?” Callum said, taking a few steps forward.

“I’m  _ fayne, _ ” she insisted. “It’s just―”

“No, you are  _ not _ fine,” Callum insisted right back at her, taking a big step forward and grabbing her hand before she could escape. “Rayla, you’ve got at least three cuts on your face. Is that what happened when you fell earlier?”

Her face burned. “M…maybe.”

He seemed to recognize that he was shaming her, for his features softened even if his grip on her hand didn’t. “Ray,” he said softly, in a way that made her heart do a little flip in her chest. “At least let me practice my healing on you, okay? It makes no sense for you to walk around with facial wounds when we can do something to fix it.”

“I…” She sighed as Callum fixed her with that stupid…caring look that melted all of her will. “Ugh,  _ okay,  _ you big dummy.”

The grin he gave her? Worth it.

“All right, here you go,” Gilavor said, digging the primal stone out of the bag at his side. He handed it to Callum and added, “Just remember to keep your hands steady.”

Callum nodded and grabbed the stone from him, that same, stupid,  _ adorable _ look on his face that he got whenever he got to use magic. Rayla sat down on the first level of the bleachers and gestured for him to get on with it.

“Right,” Callum said, sitting next to her, brow furrowed. He traced the symbol for the healing spell in front of her face, leaning close so that the symbol could shine directly on her cheeks. “ _ Remedium,” _ he murmured, and the spell activated.

It was…a very strange feeling, having a healing spell on her face. It wasn’t the first time that Callum had practiced a healing spell on her―she had a habit of scraping herself up, as they all knew―which meant she had grown very accustomed to the feeling. Just…not on her face, and certainly not with Callum so close to her.

A strange tingling spread across her face as she watched him perform the spell, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He had a habit of doing that, she realized. She wasn’t sure when she had noticed.

He really was quite handsome. She found it easier to admit in the light of the waxing moon than in the middle of the day. Maybe it was the way the silver played across his features, making his green eyes shine and his mouth seem fuller. Or maybe that last part was just her imagination…

Rayla grunted in frustration and twisted her ear, hard. That was  _ not  _ a line of thinking she wanted to follow.

Callum pulled away, and the flow of magic stopped. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Sorry, Ray, I’m still sort of new at this.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she told him, ears burning. “I just…was thinking, is all.”

“Oh,” Callum said as he resumed his healing. “About what?”

_ About your lips,  _ Rayla’s brain thought before she could stop it. She made a small squeaking sound as the words entered her mind and dug her fingers into her palm,  _ hard. _

It had to be his magic. Yes, that was it. It was his magic that was making her think these thoughts. Although, the proximity of their faces certainly wasn’t helping anything…

Rayla almost didn’t notice when Callum finished healing her, so focused was she on getting her wayward thoughts under her control.

Stupid human and his stupid magic and his stupid face. It was all stupid. Feelings were stupid.

“All done!” Callum exclaimed with another grin as he sat back. “How do you feel?”

_ Confused.  _ “Better.” Rayla rubbed her face, where the cuts had been mere moments before. “You’re getting better at that.” When he first tried the spell, it had left her with a few scabs instead of healing completely. “Thank you.”

Callum smiled at her, and it made her feel  _ more things _ that she did not appreciate.

“I should be thanking you,” he said. “You beat up Talvo and his thugs on my behalf today.” He paused. “Actually, I should be thanking you for everything. I owe you…a lot.”

Rayla returned his smile. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do, though. You didn’t have to do any of this. I know I’ve said it before, but you’re pretty great, you know that, right?”

Her face morphed into a soft expression without her permission. “And  _ you _ know that you’re pretty great, right?”

“Great!” Gilavor interrupted, clapping his hands together and startling both of them. “You’re both great. Now we can get on with training, right?”

Rayla hated the blush that covered her face. “Yep. Let’s get on with that.”

Callum cleared his throat, and when her eyes traitorously flicked over to look at him, she found that there was a light dusting of pink along his cheeks as well. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I could use some training.”

“Of course,” Gilavor said, a knowing look in his eyes as he swept some of his dark hair out of his eyes, “that’s if you’re ready to explain the  _ real  _ reason you want to be training.”

Callum’s eyes darkened unexpectedly. “Gilavor, I already told you.”

“No, you repeated an excuse. I’m very observant, you know. I knew something was off from the beginning, but now that we know each other a little better―”

“Drop it.” Callum spoke in a firm, harsh voice, glaring hard at the half-elf; a stark contrast to how he acted just a few moments before.

Rayla watched the two interact like it was some sort of strange fencing match. She was incredibly out of the look, which was something she was  _ not  _ used to. Usually, they would have to catch Gilavor up to speed if he was slow on the uptake. Before she could ask for clarification, however, Gilavor spoke again.

“I mean, I’ve been pretty honest with you―”

“Gilavor, I’m warning you―”

“I’m just saying, Callum, if you open up a little―”

“OKAY!’ Callum exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine! You’re right! Maybe I don’t just want to learn about the sun primal because it’s interesting! Maybe I want to use it to make them leave us alone! Maybe they’ll finally see justice because I learned about this magic.”

“That’s sounds a lot like revenge,” Gilavor said, narrowing his eyes.

“And?” Callum replied, still yelling. “Maybe they’re the same thing!”

“No, they’re  _ not!” _

It took her a moment to realize that it was her voice that was wavering and cracking like that. Callum and Gilavor looked over at her, blinking in shock.

“They’re  _ not  _ the same thing,” Rayla said, wrapping her arms around herself, cursing the way her voice shook. “They’re not. I should know.”

Callum took a half step toward her, chest still heaving. “Rayla, what are you talking about?”

Her knees were shaking. The words poured out of her, the dam held in for so long broken. “I…I lied when I told you my parents died peacefully. They…they were murdered when I was just four-years old.”

Dead silence. Callum’s face looked heartbroken, and Gilavor’s utterly shocked.

“Ray…” Callum started, but it was too late to stop. Rayla had held it all in for over a decade, and her heart had taken the reins.

“We were on the beach,” she gasped, “and I was scared of the water, so I didn’t want to go in, and…and mom and dad said that it was fine if I just waited on the shore for them, so I did, and…and then there was this  _ heat,  _ and I looked up―and there was this  _ fire _ and it hit my dad in the face and then there was more and more and more…”

She paused for breath, and immediately arms surrounded her. She sunk into the embrace, and didn’t even need to look to know that it was Callum, for she easily recognized his scent of old parchment and jelly tarts. He squeezed her tightly, and she gasped through her tears, burying her face in his chest, and she  _ hated _ the crying, she hated it, but it was Callum, and she had held it in for so long, and he deserved the truth. So she pressed on.

“And there were other people at the beach too, and they got hit by the fire, but  _ I  _ was fine, and my parents…they weren’t.” She swallowed, but the giant lump in her throat made it hard. “And there was so much  _ blood _ …”

She could still see it all, as clear as day. She remembered screaming in her four-year-old voice on the beach when she watched her father go down, and she remembered watching the blood in the waves as the fire kept coming, hitting anyone who had any part of their body above water. She remembered turning, still screaming, and seeing the Sunfire elf with spells burning on both hands, and she also remembered when those spells turned to point at her.

And she also remembered the Moonshadow elf who had dived in front of her, taking the fireball intended for her directly to the chest. She remembered hearing the scream of the elf’s partner, and remembered watching Runaan rush to Tinker’s side and being too late.

She remembered Runaan carrying her away from the horror of the beach. She didn’t remember anything afterward until Runaan took her under his wing a week later. Memory was strange like that.

“I’m sorry, Rayla,” Callum said, his mouth against her hair. He planted a kiss on top of her head, and it made her feel strangely anchored. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know, dummy, I haven’t told anyone other than Runaan.” She sniffled into his jacket. “He…he was there too. He lost his partner when he tried to save me. That’s part of why Runaan adopted me, trained me how to fight…” She took a breath. “Runaan said that Tinker and my parents deserved justice, but it was a front. What he really wanted was revenge, and I wanted that too.”

Callum tensed and pulled back a little bit to look her in the eye. “What...what are you saying?”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Runaan…Runaan trained me so I could release my anger. He trained me so that I could kill the elf who murdered my parents and everyone else on the beach that day.” She could feel more tears stinging her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. “He trained me for revenge.”

He blinked at her once. Twice.

“Did you do it?”

It was a loaded question. Full of morbid curiosity, fear, and…concern?

Rayla took another shaky breath. “No. I didn’t. But I almost did.”

Callum’s hands slid up to her shoulders, and she suspected it was to steady himself as much as it was to steady her. He watched her with a steady gaze, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She stared at his chin instead.

“A few years ago, Runaan finally tracked down the Sunfire elf who did it. His name was Faelyn, and he was living on the border, and Runaan said I was ready, so we…we got our weapons and we went out to go…to go do it.”

She remembered that day well, too. She’d been fifteen, then. It had been a dark night, and it had been raining heavily. She and Runaan had taken a cart to the outskirts of a small village on the border, and made their way in the darkness to a small shack at the edge of the town. The lights had been turned off, and Runaan had broken the lock silently, taking the lead as he went inside first.

It had been a dark house, mostly nondescript in nature. Anything noteworthy had been covered up by the darkness of the house.

They found him sleeping in the bedroom: the Sunfire elf from eleven years previous, who had vanished mysteriously after the attack and had remained uncaptured for years, was just...sleeping.

“We found him,” Rayla said in a soft voice, “but he woke up before we could…” She trailed off, remembering the fight that followed. More fire, but the elf had been older then, less agile. Easy to sneak behind… “We had to fight him, and―” She swallowed another sob, but a gasp still escaped her. “And he cornered Runaan, and the only way for me…for me to help him was…”

“You hurt him really badly, didn’t you?” Callum asked. There was no judgement in his voice, only sadness and concern.

She nodded, and he wrapped her in another firm hug. Despite the fact that she’d had to protect him just a couple of hours beforehand, she felt much safer in his arms. It was ironic, really.

“I think I broke his back,” she whispered, hardly audible, but Callum seemed to understand. “And…and Runaan told me to finish it…”

The images flashed through her head again. More blood, covering the sheets of the bed in a grotesque pattern. The scream of the Sunfire elf. The harsh anger in Runaan’s eyes―the same anger that had flowed in her for eleven years―and the stark horror in her own veins. She especially remembered the fear in the elf’s eyes.

And she remembered the begging. The pleading, that  _ please, I have a family _ , and the  _ I’m so sorry for what I did _ , and more.

She recalled the flick of her blades opening. And she remembered the swing of the metal as she aimed for his neck.

But most of all, she remembered how her swords never struck home.

“You couldn’t do it,” Callum finished for her, holding her tightly.

“No,” Rayla said, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “No, I couldn’t.” And then, all at once, she remembered her purpose for spewing out her life story all at once. She pulled back, though not far, and finally had the courage to look Callum in the eyes. “But don’t you get it?”

He frowned at her, and she could still see every emotion written all over his face. Funny, a month ago, she was having a hard time with that. “Don’t I get what?”

She sighed, cocking her head at him. “Callum, revenge consumed my life for  _ eleven  _ years. I let my anger drive me, and I…I ended up destroying that elf’s life and forfeiting whatever it was that normal kids did.” She squeezed his hand. “Look at what it did to Talvo―he chased after an innocent person for a month because he was so angry and injured you in the process! Revenge destroys more than just the intended target, Callum. ”

Callum broke eye contact, looking down at their feet, which were rather close together. “I…”

Feeling extraordinarily bold, Rayla lifted her free hand and tilted his chin up so he’d look at her. His eyes were watery, but full of emotion. Regret was the most prevalent. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek fondly.

“Please,” she said, “don’t let it destroy you too.”

His lip trembled, but he held eye contact. In that moment, she could have sworn she could read his mind. He was thinking about Ezran, and his parents, and he was thinking about what they would think if he went down that path. She knew because she’d had the exact same thoughts when she’d looked Faelyn in the eyes and saw all of his fear.

“Okay,” he finally whispered, raising a hand to cover the one she had on his cheek. “Okay, Ray.”

She sighed again, this time in relief. Callum was too…good for that sort of corruption. He was too kind. He was too… _ Callum. _

“Good,” she breathed.

She could feel his breath on her wrist, and it turned her stomach into a flurry of moon moths.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling at her.

_ Ba-dump _ . Her heart had a habit of making that sound whenever he was around, lately. It made her far less eloquent.

“R-right,” she stammered, lowering her hand and stepping away suddenly, eyes fixed on the ground. “W-well I should…I should probably let you get back to your training. R-right, Gilavor?”

But when Rayla looked over, Gilavor was gone, and he had been for some time.

**< |>**

Aaravos lounged at his desk, staring at the object in his hands. Everything was coming together. Despite the meddling of the human and his Moonshadow elf, the plan could not be derailed or deterred.

One of his ears twitched as he detected footsteps pounding down the long hallway that led to his office. Heavy gait, angry steps. Aaravos smirked. It had only been a matter of time, after all. He placed the empty sphere of glass on his desk carefully and intertwined his fingers, waiting patiently.

The door to the room slammed open not a moment later. The intruder stepped inside, panting angrily. His face markings and eyes glowed dangerously, a sure sign of his rage. His hair was windswept, implying that he had run all the way to the office, and Aaravos couldn’t resist a small chuckle.

“Well, well, well,” he said, leaning back even further in his seat. “It was about time you paid me a visit. You’re overdue…”

The half-elf took a step forward, shoulders tense, eyes burning.

“…Gilavor.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” Gilavor roared, stomping forward so that his fists slammed into the surface of the desk.

“Whatever could you mean?” Aaravos asked, hiding a smirk.

The wooden desk cracked under Gilavor’s fists.

“ _ WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME RAYLA WAS THE ONE WHO CRIPPLED MY FATHER?!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have only one thing to say:
> 
> Mu. Ha. Ha.
> 
> (i promise things will make more sense in the next chapter.)  
> (also: thanks to skymagemar for betaing! PLEASE check out her fic, In Our Heads!)


	14. Half Moon Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Startouch elf laughed; a cold, humorless laugh. 
> 
> "Oh, Gilavor," he said. "You still have many things to learn about lying."

Gilavor stood panting in front of Aaravos’s desk, feeling fire in his veins as he glared at the Startouch elf. Half-elves couldn’t assume the full magical form of their elven counterparts, but they could get very, very close to it; it took all of his willpower for his hair not to light on fire and for his fingers to heat to temperatures that burned wood.

Aaravos stared back at him calmly. “Why?”

“Yes, _why!”_ Gilavor snarled, baring his teeth at him. 

“This,” Aaravos replied in a nonplussed voice, “ _this_ is why, Gilavor. Look at how you’re reacting. You’re endangering the plan already.”

Gilavor gnashed his teeth. How _dare he?_ How dare he sit there like he was above this whole situation? How dare he act like this hadn’t been Gilavor’s focus for _four years?_

Outside, thunder boomed.

“Emotion is a weakness,” Aaravos stated in that calm voice. “You’ve always known this. Isn’t that what I taught you?”

Slowly, Gilavor took his fists off of Aaravos’s desk.

“Yes,” he said in a somewhat calmer, though still angry, voice. “You did tell me that.”

“Take a seat, Gil,” Aaravos said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s talk rationally about this.”

Reluctantly, Gilavor did as he said, sitting down but remaining perched on the end of his seat. He itched to march back to that field and place a few fireballs in the pair of smitten idiots, but he knew that if he did that he’d have to face Aaravos’s wrath, and he’d seen firsthand why that was not a good idea.

“How long have I mentored you?” Aaravos said in that _stupid_ calm voice of his.

Gilavor didn’t answer at first, but the quirk of an eyebrow from the Startouch elf bid him answer. 

“Eight years.”

“And what were you doing before I found you?”

His eye twitched. “You called it ‘petty thievery.’”

Gilavor remembered that day very well. One of the few things that his father and Aaravos had in common was that they both described his teenage years as “troubled;” how could it not be, with the way the elves in Xadia had treated him as a child? Half-elves were uncommon, and there was still plenty of prejudice towards humans and elves on both sides, which meant that an offspring of an elf and a human would be met with animosity. Faelyn had done his best with Gilavor, but he still spent his free time stealing from whatever elf had made his life hell that day.

Aaravos had happened upon him during one of the…worse reactions to Gilavor’s thievery. Gilavor had managed to create a fireball to defend himself, but it had been flickery and threatened to go out with the wind.

And then Aaravos―who was very clearly a Startouch elf―had scared all of the bullies off by producing a fire spell that was a hundred times more powerful than whatever it was that Gilavor had managed to produce. It was only after they left that he revealed the sun primal stone under his cloak. After a brief talk with Faelyn, it had been agreed that Gilavor would study sun magic under Aaravos in order to keep him out of trouble.

“Exactly, Gilavor. Petty thievery. Why, if it were not for me and my knowledge, you’d still be making paltry fireballs behind your father’s house.”

Aaravos’s words weren’t making Gilavor any calmer. If anything, they only stoked the rage growing in his chest. But he held himself back; Aaravos always knew best, and that was his whole point. He’d manipulated this whole situation, after all; somehow, Aaravos had found a way for Rayla and Callum to feel like they were in control while depriving them of any actual choice. That was how Gilavor had come into the plan in the first place: by making sure to drop rumors of his prowess with the sun primal, Aaravos had made sure Lujanne knew about Gilavor and had steered Rayla and Callum down that path. It had all been very methodical, very thought out; and Gilavor was endangering all of that by just being in the office. If Rayla and Callum had followed him…

No, that was unlikely. The two oblivious idiots were too wrapped up in each other to notice his departure or where he had gone. It was one of many advantages he had over them. That, and the whole ‘tragic backstory’ he’d told them gave them good reason to trust him. Even if that tragic backstory was true.

“Are you feeling calmer? Less likely to burn something down, perhaps?”

GIlavor took a breath to steady his pulse and his shaking fingers. Was he still angry? Remarkably so. Was he going to let it get in the way of things? 

Not a chance.

“Yes,” he said, forcing his muscles to relax. “I’m calm.”

“Excellent,” Aaravos said, sitting up in his chair. “Now, I need you to prove yourself to me.”

Gilavor blinked. “I’m sorry, what was that? I think I might have―”

“Yes, Gilavor,” Aaravos interrupted, his voice finally taking on a different tone―a dangerous one. He fixed Gilavor with a hard stare. “Prove to me that you can still do this, and I won’t remove your only chance of avenging your father’s mobility.”

Gilavor gulped. Aaravos was dangerous; he knew that better than anybody. This wasn’t just about Faelyn anymore. 

This was about Gilavor’s survival.

**< |>**

It started raining not long after they realized that Gilavor had left in the middle of Rayla’s little speech. Rayla simply flipped up the hood to her jacket, but Callum let the rain fall on him for a few moments. He lifted his head and looked up at the sky, a strange look in his eyes. It was almost like he was looking at an old friend.

“Are you―are you just gonna let yourself get soaked?” Rayla asked, frowning at him. Granted, she was still standing in the middle of a rain storm with him, but at least she had a little protection.

“Well, if I do, it means I don’t have to bathe tonight―”

“Gross.”

“―but no, I’m not.” Callum sent her one of his adorable little looks, which she was quickly beginning to realize meant that he had an idea that could range from incredibly stupid to brilliant. 

“Oh, no,” she said, crossing her arms as water dripped from her hood. “What’s that face for?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said, raising a hand. For a wild moment, she thought that he might touch her face―which wouldn’t have been unusual considering all of the casual intimacy they’d been engaging in lately. Instead, he began tracing a glowing blue symbol in the air, one that flickered in the rain. After a moment, a series of cloud-like shapes became visible, intertwined with an image that almost looked like an eye.

_“Oculus Tempestus,”_ Callum said, winking at her.

Immediately, the symbol glowed a bright blue, and the light grew in intensity until it was a small glowing sphere of sky-blue light that hovered in the air. Then it began to _grow_.

It was like a giant bubble, of sorts, one that spread to a diameter of twenty feet before it stopped. Where it spread, the rain halted, like the spell was some sort of giant umbrella―which seemed to be an accurate assessment. All around them, the blue light shone, lighting up the night with the way it flickered above and around them.

Rayla couldn’t help the way her jaw dropped open as she stared at the bubble of dryness around them. She’d seen Callum perform sky magic before of course; when he was done training with the sun primal stone, he’d usually practice the smaller sky spells that he knew. He’d never told her about how he’d connected to the sky arcanum, but she assumed it had something to do with his step-father’s death, and so had never asked in order to give him space and time to deal with it. Now she found herself more curious than ever, but she didn’t ask. He’d tell her when he was ready.

“Woah,” she found herself saying as she looked back down at her human in disguise. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Callum rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly. “Well, neither did I, to be honest. I’ve never done that spell before, and I just wanted to try it, so…” He seemed simultaneously excited and sheepish, and she found it incredibly endearing.

“Does it move with you?” Rayla asked, staring back up at the flickering blue dome around them.

“Uh…I was actually…” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering if we could…just stay here for a while? I’m, uh, not really sure I want to go to sleep yet, and I like talking to you, so…”

She found herself smiling as well. If she was being truly honest with herself―which was much easier after that big speech she just gave―she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to go to sleep either. For one, the moon was out, and it would help her regain whatever strength she was still missing after the recent new moon, and for another…well, she liked talking to him too.

“ _Maybe_ I could be convinced to stay here with you,” she teased him, reveling in the way his eyes lit up excitedly at the prospect. “But I’m also soaking wet.”

She lifted up her jacket sleeve, which was indeed dripping water onto the wet grass beneath them. Callum was also soaked, but he seemed to be more comfortable with it than she was―which made sense, considering that he was connected to the arcanum of the sky.

“Aha!” Callum suddenly exclaimed, his face lighting up with more of that boyish excitement that he had whenever spellwork was involved. She’d never admit it aloud, but she loved seeing that look on his face. “I have a spell for that!”

“Please,” Rayla replied with a small smile, shaking out her wrist. Water droplets fell off and onto the grass.

“Uh, okay,” Callum said, scratching his head with his spell finger before lifting it into the air again. “This is actually the first spell I learned. It should dry you off pretty quickly. Just…stand still, okay?”

She cocked a skeptical eyebrow, but he was already sketching the symbol in the air like he had done it a thousand times before. The symbol was much simpler than the others she had seen him use, a simple swirl or two in the air composed of blue-green light. It took her a moment, but she realized that it was the same spell he had used on Gilavor when they’d first met the half-elf.

“ _Aspiro,”_ he said in a confident voice. Then he took a deep breath and _blew_ on the rune.

Immediately, a strong whirlwind burst forth from his mouth, headed straight for Rayla. Her eyes widened right before the strong breeze hit her.

She blinked against the magical wind, eyes watering as she regained her balance. It…smelled strangely of jelly tarts, but that couldn’t be right. After a moment, the wind died down, leaving her hair frizzy and stuck up in places, but dry. Her clothes weren’t soaking wet anymore, either. She found Callum grinning at her, out of breath.

“See?” he said, taking another deep breath. “Cool, right?”

She couldn’t help but return his smile. He was _such_ a dork, and she loved that about him. 

“Yeah,” Rayla agreed, smoothing down her hair. “It _was_ cool. But what was with the jelly tart smell?”

Callum suddenly turned sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh…I had one with dinner earlier?”

“Oh.” She suddenly felt embarrassingly hot. “That’s…nice.” Why was that so embarrassing? It shouldn’t _feel_ so embarrassing.

She cleared her throat. “So…let’s sit, shall we?”

“Yep!” he agreed, with a small voice crack. “Sitting!”

Rayla chuckled as they sat on the grass, the blue dome of magic casting everything in a strange, otherworldly light. It was actually…sort of nice to see, especially with the sound of the rain falling outside the magical dome. And she definitely didn’t appreciate the way the blue light highlighted some of Callum’s more handsome features. Not one bit.

“So where do ye think Gilavor went?” Rayla asked after a few moments of comfortable silence. She didn’t even realize that she had slipped into her accent until Callum smiled softly at her. She continued quickly before he could see the redness of her ears. “I mean, he took the primal stone with him.”

Callum sent her a sympathetic smile. “He…probably felt uncomfortable because of what happened to his dad.”

Oh, _ouch._ Rayla felt a physical pang in her heart, like someone had just punched her in the chest. She still felt guilty about what she’d done to that poor elf, despite the fact that it had been many years ago and the elf had moved away to Katolis for healing. She never knew what happened to him.

Callum’s face contorted, yet it wasn’t an expression of pity that overtook his features, but one of sympathy and regret. He scooted closer, so that their knees were touching.

“Sorry,” he said, touching her forearm. “I shouldn’t have…” He sighed. “I don’t blame you for what happened, you know.”

“You don’t have to,” Rayla said, drawing her knees up to her chin. “I blame myself enough for the both of us.”

“Rayla,” Callum said, his voice impossibly soft. “Hey. Look at me.”

She stalled for a moment, for she knew that whenever she looked at him, he forced her to look twice at everything. She wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted. But eventually she gave in, because when it came to Callum she was weaker than a tree sapling.

His green eyes were full of kindness and compassion, and if she hadn’t been sitting down it would have made her knees weak. He was…the way he looked at her made her heart warm and her head fuzzy in a way that she couldn’t fully explain.

“You experienced something that no one should have to live through, especially not that young. It changed you, and you reacted the only way you knew how.” Callum’s features grew sorrowful. “I guess trauma changes a lot of people into what they never want to be.”

“That’s why it’s _traumatic,_ Cal,” Rayla said, reaching over and taking his hand. “Because it makes people the worst version of themselves if they don’t know better.”

“I don’t know,” he replied, “I mean, you turned out all right. You…convinced me not to do something stupid.”

“That’s because I’m getting very used to your version of _stupid,_ stupid,” Rayla told him, bumping her shoulder into his with a little chuckle. But she grew solemn after a moment. “And besides, I’ve got plenty of experience.”

“But you still chose to do the right thing,” Callum said earnestly. He squeezed her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. “Because that’s who you are.”

She wanted to melt. She wasn’t sure if it was because of his words, or the way his thumb was still caressing his hand, or if it was the way he was _still looking at her,_ or if it was a combination of all three.

“Heh,” she chuckled a bit nervously. “If you’re not careful, you just might get me to like you, smooth prince.”

“Oh, you know you love me,” Callum said, leaning back on his hands and winking at her.

_Ba-dump._

“No!” Rayla exclaimed indignantly. Then, when Callum’s features took on something similar to offense, she corrected herself. Or tried to, anyway. “I mean, yes! No! You―that’s―we’re friends!”

Callum stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter, clutching his gut and nearly falling onto his back. When Rayla finally joined in, it was more out of relief and nervousness than actual amusement. By the sources, why was she such a mess today?

Eventually, when the laughter wore off and the comfortable silence returned―somehow, silence with Callum never really felt uncomfortable―he spoke again.

“So…uh, if you don’t mind me asking…” Callum rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Um…what were―what were your parents like?”

Rayla started to tense up, but she forced herself to relax. This was _Callum_ . After everything she’d already said that night, there was no need to clam up again. In fact, she didn’t _want_ to close him off.

“They were…” Rayla frowned as she tried to remember. “They would tuck me in, every night, and tell me stories about the moon. My mom, she would…she would find these bright blue roses, like the sky, and she’d give me these…tiny little flower crowns that she made with these flowers that somehow would fit my little head. And my dad…one time, we went on a trip somewhere cold, I can’t remember where, but I’d forgotten my gloves, so he gave me the socks off his own two feet so I wouldn’t get frostbite.”

She found herself smiling. She’d gotten into the habit of blocking out _any_ memories of her parents, not just the bad ones, without realizing it.

“They sound like nice people,” Callum told her, leaning his head on his hand, his elbow resting on his knee as he watched her.

“They were,” Rayla said, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the sky. The half moon was just barely visible through Callum’s magical dome. “My mom…she used to say this thing to my dad. It was super cheesy, but apparently it’s some ancient Moonshadow proverb.”

“What was it?”

She chewed on her lower lip as she tried to remember. She hadn’t thought about that particular memory in years, but she remembered enough. Her mother had said it to her father often enough in Moonshadow Elvish. They’d been mushy like that.

“ _Mar an dhá leath na gealaí bhaineann le gach eile, agus mar sin mbaineann mo chroí a thabhairt duit_ ,” she recited, closing her eyes as if it could help her remember. She chuckled once to herself as she remembered how red her father’s face used to get at that phrase. She didn’t understand why as a child, but she had a better understanding now that she was older. “It means, ‘as the two halves of the moon belong to each other, so my heart belongs to you.’ She loved that phrase.”

“Wow,” Callum breathed. She looked over to find him staring at her, which of course made her heart thump loudly in her chest for unknown reasons. “That’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Rayla said, looking up at the moon again. “It was.”

“Can you tell me more about them?” his voice tentatively asked her, then immediately backtracked. “I mean, you don’t have to, but it’s…nice to hear about other people’s families.”

She smiled up at the crescent moon. “It’s…nice to talk about them, I guess. I s’ppose I could say a bit more.”

And so she did. Rayla told Callum about how her mother had beautiful horns, and about how her father would often bump his horns―a bit shorter―into them to tell her he loved her. Rayla told Callum about her father’s violet eyes, which she had inherited, and how they’d well with emotion when he felt things too strongly; a trait that, she realized, she might have also received from him.

She wasn’t sure how long she talked for, recounting every fact about her parents that she could remember, but she knew it was for a long time. Callum never complained, however, and he simply nodded along, smiling at her as his pencil scratched away in his sketchbook―

Wait, his sketchbook?

Rayla’s words stuttered to a stop as she realized how fervently his pencil was moving across the page of his sketchbook. He was only half looking at her, frowning in concentration as he continued to sketch. If it hadn’t been for her burning curiosity, she would have found his expression unbearably cute (and _maybe_ she did anyway).

“Wha―what’re ye doing?” she asked, ignoring the accent that slipped out of her mouth.

Callum’s head snapped up, meeting her eyes with a hearty blush. _“Uh.”_ He cleared his throat and straightened, holding out his sketchbook for her and looking away as his cheeks only grew redder. “I―I made―I mean, this is―here, just look.”

Rayla could only gape at him for a moment. Callum was fiercely protective of his sketchbook, and in all their time together, he had never offered her his sketchbook to look at. Even when they’d broken into Aaravos’s office to retrieve it, she hadn’t glimpsed inside.

But eventually she gathered her wits and gently took the sketchbook from him. The moment she laid eyes on the page, her breath was knocked out of her.

Because on the page, the likenesses of her parents awaited.

The sketch was…it looked just like them. Even the clothes. There was the vest that her father had always worn, and the crescent moon belt of her mother, and the large horns that she’d possessed as well. Callum had even managed to capture the life in their eyes―her father’s humor and her mother’s compassion.

“It’s amazing…” Rayla breathed, caressing the likenesses of her parents with a finger. It had been _so long_ since she had last seen their faces. Runaan had recovered an old portrait of them from her old home, but she never really looked at it all that often, for the portrait had been made a few days before… _it_ happened.

Her father had been quite handsome, with sharp features and a small goatee that he spent far too long trimming, according to her mother. And her mother had been quite the catch as well, with large eyes and lips that had all worked well together, according to Rayla’s father.

“Really?” Callum’s voice came. She managed to tear her eyes away from the drawing to look up at him. He looked even more sheepish than he had been before, a soft blush on his cheeks. “Because I wasn’t sure when I was sketching it―oof!”

She cut him off mid-sentence by tackling him into a massive hug, one that sent them both crashing to the ground with a soft little _thud._ He ended up laughing, and she could feel the mirth reverberating in his chest and bouncing into hers. Overhead, lightning flashed and thunder boomed, trying its best to drown them out but failing miserably.

She squeezed him tightly, feeling tears in her eyes again for the second time that night, but for a completely different reason. Callum was so…well, _Callum._ He was so unlike anyone she had ever met before, and she loved that about him. He didn’t have the heart of a warrior, but he was willing to do anything for the people he cared about. He’d drawn a picture of her parents on a whim because he was _thoughtful_ and _caring_ and just… _him._ By the _sources,_ she loved this human.

She―

Wait.

_Fuck._

Rayla froze up suddenly, ceasing the laughter she had unknowingly joined in on. No, that couldn’t be right, she couldn’t…she couldn’t lo―she couldn’t have feelings for _him_ . She’d only known him for a month, and that wasn’t even factoring in that he was a _human_ , someone different from her in almost every way.

But she knew that wasn’t true. Callum and Rayla were quite similar yet different in the ways that really mattered. They’d both been through similar trauma, yet he was calm where she was angry, like in the situation with Talvo earlier in the day. He was the water to her fire, and vice versa, and―

And _shit._ She could _not_ have feelings for a human!

But she really, really did.

_FUCK!_

All sorts of expletives began to run through her mind as she blinked into his scarf, not realizing that she was still holding him tight. This could _not_ be happening. Not now.

“Hey,” Callum suddenly said, scooting away to look her in the eye, hands still on her arms as they laid on the ground together. “You okay?”

Rayla flinched. She couldn’t help it. This new knowledge was dangerous and _stupid_ , and she hated it, but he…well, he was really close, with those _stupid_ green eyes and that _stupid_ concerned twist to his mouth, and she was _so weak_ when it came to him; something she’d known for a while but had never really acknowledged.

“I’m fine,” she told him, trying her best to give him a convincing smile. She wasn’t sure how well it worked, considering that the little twist in his mouth only grew deeper― _not that she was looking at his mouth,_ because she totally wasn’t (was)―and he scooted back over, a little closer than before. The _ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump_ sound her heart was making was even louder than the previous times in her ears, and she hated that she knew why it was there now.

“Are you sure?” Callum asked, his brows furrowing adorably. “Because I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by drawing that.”

“No!” Rayla exclaimed, with a little more force than she intended. Then, more gently, “No, Callum. That was...that was really, super incredibly sweet of you. I love…it.” Stupid feelings. Stupid, stupid stupid! Everything was stupid.

But no matter how often she repeated those words to herself, the warm glow in her heart would not go away.

**< |>**

“Now,” Aaravos said, rising from behind his desk to put his own knuckles on the wooden surface in an intimidating manner, “Tell me that you can do this. Tell me that your emotions won’t get in the way of what we came here to do. _Tell me_ your emotions are under control.”

Gilavor took a moment to compose himself; to get his breathing under control, to control any facial ticks, to look Aaravos right in the eye.

“I’m in control of my emotions,” he said in a calm, sure voice. “It will not interfere with the mission in any way, shape, or form.”

Aaravos stared at him with his dark eyes for a long moment. Gilavor held his breath.

“You’re _lying._ ”

Gilavor prepared to run. He prepared himself to fight his way out of the situation, to try and jump out the window, to do something to survive. But then Aaravos spoke again.

“That’s good.”

Gilavor flinched on instinct and nearly tripped over his own two feet. He managed to recover his dignity, however, and rolled his shoulders back to speak to his mentor, trying his best to hide his shock.

“It…is?”

Aaravos nodded, though the dangerous edge to his demeanor hadn’t dissipated. “It’s good. It means you can do this. If you have enough courage and guile to lie to _me,_ you have enough to lie to _them._ ”

Gilavor was no fool. He could recognize the threat behind the words. But he allowed himself to relax all the same; he still had a chance at this. He could still do this for his father.

“This is perfect for what I have in mind next,” Aaravos said, sitting back down and gesturing for Gilavor to do the same. “ _You_ will be instrumental in the next events.”

Relief was just one of many emotions that flooded Gilavor in that moment. He could still do this. He could still do what was needed. He was safe.

“Now,” Aaravos said, leaning back in his chair. “Why don’t you fill me in on what has happened since our last meeting? How is the young Callum’s… _training_ going?”

“I did what you said,” Gilavor told him. “I only taught Callum three spells with the primal stone, but he’s surprisingly good with magic, for a human. He only burned himself once, unfortunately.”

“Of course he’s gifted with magic,” Aaravos said with a wave of his hand. “He’s connected to the sky primal. Humans are surprising creatures, to be sure.”

Considering that Gilavor was half-human, he didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Regardless,” Aaravos continued, “it will make little difference. The important thing is the build-up of trust.”

“They trust me,” Gilavor said. Then he frowned. “Though, Rayla is naturally suspicious.” He felt that familiar burn of anger in his chest again at saying her name―a reminder that he’d spent _a month_ around the person who’d ruined his father’s life and hadn’t known it.

“She has good reason to be, considering everything that’s happened to her,” Aaravos said, and there was that note of superiority in his voice. Gilavor knew it well, for Aaravos only spoke like that when he knew something that no one else did. That particular tone of voice had never sat well with Gilavor, and it still didn’t, but before he could analyze it further, the Startouch elf spoke again.

“And Talvo?”

Gilavor sighed. “Things came to a head. Talvo attacked them, but apparently Rayla beat him and two other Sunfire elves single handedly.” He swallowed the bitterness on his tongue as he remembered that she used those same skills on his father. “They know about the letter.”

He shuddered at that. He’d _hated_ writing that letter. His blood still boiled at the words he’d been instructed to write on the page, but he’d told himself it was all for the greater good. For the goal that Aaravos and his partner-in-crime Viren had their sights set on, even if they hadn’t revealed the whole plan to him yet. But still, writing something like that…it made him recoil at the very thought of it.

“Please don’t make me write something like that again,” Gilavor added, rubbing his hands together uncomfortably in his lap, out of sight of the professor’s prying eyes.

“You shouldn’t need to,” Aaravos replied calmly, intertwining his own fingers to rest in front of him. “Talvo has served his purpose, whether he knew it or not. But now you must be careful. If they become suspicious of you now, there is no one to blame but you.”

“I know,” Gilavor said. “But I can do it.”

“And you will. What are their opinions on the upcoming fencing match?”

“They’re apprehensive. But I think they’re both planning on going, especially since Rayla is the star fencer.” 

Aaravos frowned unexpectedly. “That will not be beneficial for us.”

“What? Why? I thought the whole idea of getting the humans to come here was so that Callum would have to see them, and they would see him.”

“That is part of it,” Aaravos admitted, narrowing his eyes in thought. “However, Lord Viren and I have recently decided that things would work out…better if Callum were not present at the fencing match. And don’t bother asking why, Gilavor. You’ll know when the time comes.”

Gilavor shouldn’t have started to grind his teeth. These sorts of task had been commonplace for as long as he’d had Aaravos as a mentor. But after everything that had happened over the course of one day…everything he had learned…he just needed a break.

“Is that all?” he asked, itching to stand and leave the office, which had become unbearably stuffy.

Aaravos regarded him with those cold eyes of his for a moment longer.

“Yes,” he eventually drawled. “You may leave. When the time is right, I will contact you again.”

_Thank heavens,_ Gilavor found himself thinking. He wasn’t sure if it was out of relief that he was still of use or relief that he hadn’t angered the Startouch elf. He suspected it was a bit of both. He stood quickly―but not too quickly, for he knew that Aaravos was a master of reading body language―and made his way to the door. But, of course, something stopped him.

“Aaravos,” Gilavor said, turning to look at his mentor, who was still sitting calmly at his desk. “How did you know I was lying before, about my emotions? I followed every rule you gave me.”

The Startouch elf laughed; a cold, humorless laugh.

“Oh, Gilavor,” he said, “You still have many things to learn about lying. Did you really think I taught you everything _I_ know about deception? Mark these words, boy, the only person you will _never_ be able to lie to…is _me_.”

Gilavor gulped. With those words, he left the office behind, and hoped that all of this would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually like making my characters curse so much, but I feel like it fits, all things considering. This chapter was originally going to be much longer, but I had to shorten it so I wouldn't go mad(der). 
> 
> Thanks to skymagemar for giving me a Gaelic translation for that one part! She also betaed, and you guys should totally check out her fic, In Our Heads.
> 
> Happy (late) Halloween, and I hope we all flip our lids when we get the trailer tomorrow!


	15. Heartfelt (and Culinary) Endeavors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You coming along, dumb prince?"
> 
> "I would love nothing more, Ray."

It came as a relief when they stopped talking and simply laid in the grass for a while, simply staring up at the sky through Callum’s magical umbrella. It was still raining, which was a good thing, for Rayla was sure that if nature were silent, everyone would be able to hear her heart beating like a madman on a drum.

She tried her best not to think about it, because if she thought about it then she would overthink about it and then everything would be a mess. People didn’t just…get feelings like this overnight, right? So if she did her best and ignored them, things would go back to normal like they’d been for the past few weeks…days, whatever.

She knew her thinking was erratic. She couldn’t really find it in herself to care. Everything else was stupid, so didn’t that mean she was the only one thinking logically? It made sense to her.

She wanted to beat her head against the ground. Being in…having feelings for a human made no sense. There was still plenty of prejudice on both sides regarding humans and elves, and even more prejudice toward…elven-human relations. If that were even an option―which it most certainly was  _ not _ ―there was no possible way that Callum would feel the same.

“So what am I supposed to do with my time now?” Callum’s voice came, interrupting her internal monologue.

Rayla blinked. Right. Reality was still a thing.

“Wh-what?” she asked.

She looked over to find Callum looking like the adorable mess he was. His brows were furrowed as he stared up at the sky, and his hands fiddled together as they lay on his stomach.  _ Stupid _ butterflies in her  _ stupid _ stomach…

“I mean, I still want to learn about the sun primal, and I’ll still do everything in my power to protect Ezran and expose Aaravos for being a fraud, but…now that I’m not going to, uh,  _ end _ anybody, what do I do?” Callum narrowed his eyes at a star in thought. “That’s a lot more time on my hands than I’m used to.”

Rayla pinched the skin on the inside of her right wrist to get herself anchored. She could do this.

She sighed as she took an extra moment to actually ponder his question. “Well, what do you normally do for fun?”

“Draw,” Callum replied immediately. “Read. Sometimes at the same time.”

Rayla snorted. “Dork.”

“I’m not―” He paused. “Okay, yeah, maybe I am.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, not necessarily at what he had said, but because  _ really? This _ was the human she had feelings for? The universe had to be having a laugh at her.

“What sorts of other things did you do for fun?” she asked him, more to get her mind off that train of thought before it could completely derail her once again.

Callum seemed to think about that for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his lips. He turned on his side suddenly, propping his head up on an elbow to look down at her. “Have you ever had cookie dough?”

Rayla blinked at him. “Cookie…dough? As in  _ raw _ cookie dough? Isn’t that how people get sick?”

“Pshh,” Callum dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’ve never known anyone to get sick from cookie dough.” He frowned. “Okay, maybe one person, but Bait doesn’t really count.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you supposed to be convincing me to have this strange human custom, or…?”

“ _ Strange human _ ―are you telling me that elves don’t eat cookie dough?”

Rayla propped herself up on her own elbow to stare indignantly at him. “And humans  _ do? _ That sounds like something that should have gotten you all sick!”

“It’s delicious, actually!”

“Oh, really? Prove it!”

Callum leaned closer, that mischievous grin returning full force. “Oh, I was planning on it.”

_ His lips are chapped. _

Rayla sat up as soon as she realized how close his face was to hers. She cleared her throat loudly, more for herself to focus than for anything else.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” she exclaimed in a voice that most definitely did  _ not  _ crack.

“Right now?” Callum asked, sitting up as well. His brow was furrowed again. “I was planning on doing it in the morning―”

“Callum, you dummy, the cooks and everyone else is in the kitchen during the day. Do you really think they’re just gonna let you waltz in there and start making your…weird human food?”

“Hey, elves eat cookies too!”

“Yeah, but not the dough!” She chuckled to herself once before continuing. “Besides, it’s a miracle you weren’t caught in the kitchens the first time!”

“Well, actually, we  _ did _ get caught, but―”

“You’re not helpin’ yer case.”

Callum grinned at her. “You know, your accent comes out more when you get excited about something.”

“Or when I’m annoyed at a certain dumb human,” Rayla grumbled, but she couldn’t help the smile on her face. She felt the warmness in her chest again, but did her best to push it away. “So, are we headed to the kitchens now or what?”

Callum smiled softly at her. “Never thought I’d hear you encourage me to get down to mischief. You’re usually the responsible one between us.”

“I’m…in a reckless mood tonight,” Rayla said, and she supposed it was true. She was being reckless in her attempts to distract herself from the now-obvious things brewing in her heart. Or…brewed. She suspected everything had been there for a while. That didn’t mean she had to like it  _ or  _ pay attention to it.

So she stood and held out a hand to help him up. “You coming along, dumb prince?”

Callum’s eyes crinkled as he smiled up at her. “I would love nothing more, Ray.”

**< |>**

Gilavor shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat as he walked back from Aaravos’s office. His mind was still turning over the details of Aaravos’s instructions. 

Gilavor was never told the specifics of the plan until it came to fruition. He still didn’t know what Aaravos and that “Lord Viren” were planning, but he was sure whatever it was, it was for a good reason. Hopefully. He’d heard stories about Viren, and not pleasant ones, but he was sure that if Aaravos was working with him, it was for a good reason.

“Ugh,” Gilavor muttered as a gust of wind hit him. At least it had stopped raining. Still, he was half-Sunfire elf, which meant he was  _ not  _ bred for cold weather. It didn’t help that his dorm was all the way across campus, which meant―

“Gilavor!” a voice exclaimed.

He cursed under his breath.

“Hey, Callum!” Gilavor said, turning around to look at the human in disguise as he and Rayla emerged from the alley between two buildings that led to the practice field. Gilavor forced a smile on his face, forcing all of his thoughts away from his face the way he’d been taught.

In all honesty, he was surprised to see them still around at this hour. He’d assumed that, in their obliviousness, they’d be wrapped up in each other for much longer than they apparently had been.

“Where did you go?” Callum said, adjusting his scarf as he directed that annoying earnestness at Gilavor. “You disappeared with the primal stone and everything.”

“I was…” Gilavor trailed off when he saw Rayla over Callum’s shoulder. Her eyes were still a little red and there seemed to be something bothering her―which Gilavor could tell she was  _ not  _ going to tell anyone about, judging by her body language―but she seemed completely oblivious as to the complete nature of her crimes, as usual.

_ “ If you have enough courage and guile to lie to me, you have enough to lie to them.” _

Aaravos’s words rang in Gilavor’s mind. He could do this; the best lies were based in the truth, weren’t they? He could keep doing this. Piece of cake.

Gilavor sighed, making sure to look down at his feet. “I was…a little bothered by Rayla’s story, I guess. It reminded me of what happened to my pops.”

He looked up just in time to see Rayla wince, and to see Callum’s eyes soften in sympathy.

They were both fools.

“I’m…uh, sorry about that,” Rayla managed to say, sounding genuinely sorry. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

_ Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have done what you did. _

Gilavor didn’t let his anger show on his face, but in his pockets, his fingers curled into fists. “It’s okay. We’ve all got baggage.”

“Tell me about it,” Callum joked with an awkward smile. “Um…we’re gonna head over to the kitchens and make some cookie dough. Wanna come?”

Gilavor cocked an eyebrow. “Cookie…dough?”

He’d had it once, as a child. His father had told him that his mother had taught him the human tradition. They’d only done it once, for it brought back painful memories for Faelyn. Gilavor’s mother had died in childbirth.

“Yeah,” Rayla said with a sigh. “Apparently, it’s a human delicacy.”

Gilavor  _ hmm _ ed. It  _ would  _ provide him with a good chance to talk to Callum about staying back during the fencing tournament…

“Okay,” he agreed, slapping a cheerful expression on his face. “Let’s do it! I haven’t had cookie dough since I was a kid.”

“Ha!” Callum exclaimed, elbowing Rayla in the side. “Told you.”

“He didn’t even say it was good, calm down,” the Moonshadow elf replied with a roll of her eyes.

Gilavor had to resist the urge to roll his own eyes as well.  _ These two, I swear… _

“Cool!” Callum exclaimed with that annoying grin. “Come on, the kitchens are this way.”

Gilavor pursed his lips. It was going to be a long night.

**< |>**

As it turns out, they weren’t the only ones who were trying to break into the kitchens that night.

It was with a great amount of difficulty that Rayla did not draw her swords when she saw the shadows waiting outside the flat-roofed area of the dining hall. To her credit, her hands only flinched toward her back, but she managed to keep them down when the other people turned to look at them.

“What are  _ you _ guys doing here?” Kale asked, in the middle of trying to climb up on the roof and failing miserably.

Callum muttered a curse, and she elbowed him in the side. Indeed, it was the entire group from the lunch table, even Cressida. Surprisingly, Zell was without her book and actually looked up at Rayla and Callum when they spoke. Atlas leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he smirked at them.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rayla asked, cocking an eyebrow as Kale clumsily jumped down to the ground. Amateur.

Kale sighed and dusted himself off. “Zell here forget her book about the nonsense of the blood moon in the cafeteria and dragged us all out of bed to go an get it.”

“It’s  _ not  _ nonsense!” Zell exclaimed, glaring at her brother. “It’s all very scholarly, and―”

“ _ It’s all very scholarly!” _ Kale mocked in a high-pitched, poor imitation of Zell.

“Oh, don’t even start with that, you know that’s not funny―”

“It’s actually pretty funny, you just don’t know how to―”

“Actually,” a new voice intervened, “there are some pretty interesting studies about the blood moon and the sun primal.”

Rayla looked over at Gilavor, who had his hands in the pocket of his black jacket as he cocked his head at the two siblings. He shrugged again.

“Just a thought,” he added, a little awkwardly, because he must have realized that the other Moonshadow elves were staring at him. Rather rudely.

“HA!” Zell finally said, shoving a finger in Kale’s face. “I  _ told  _ you!” Then she turned to Gilavor and extended a hand toward him. “Thank you, uh…”

“Gilavor,” the half-elf replied, shaking her hand firmly. If Zell was bothered by his five fingers, she didn’t say anything. “And you are…?”

“Zell,” she told him. “And this is Atlas and Cressida. The idiot with asphalt on his face over there is my brother Kale.”

Kale blinked at her, then pawed some of the asphalt from his failed attempt to climb onto the roof off his face with a scowl.

“So what  _ are  _ you three doing here?” Cressida asked, looking between Rayla and Callum with a  _ knowing  _ look on her face. It was the same sort of look she’d used on Rayla the day before.

Rayla cleared her throat to banish the redness of her ears and face. “Callum promised me a human delicacy he learned from living near the breach, and I bet him that it wasn’t any good. So here we are.”

“What kind of human delicacy?” Atlas asked with a raised eyebrow.

_ “Cookie dough,” _ Callum signed immediately. It was a good thing that the light of the moon wasn’t stifled by the clouds, so Rayla could actually see his hands. Not that she needed to.

“Cookie  _ dough?” _ Zell asked, frowning. “Doesn’t that…get you sick?”

“That’s what I said!” Rayla exclaimed.

Callum rolled his eyes.  _ “Well, then I guess I’ll have to prove all of you wrong.” _

“Do you guys know a way into the dining hall?” Cressida asked skeptically.

_ “Yes,” _ Callum signed at the same time that Rayla said, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” They looked at each other for a moment before turning back to the others.

“Leave it to me,” Rayla said, because she assumed that Callum’s method of getting up there either involved sky magic―which he couldn’t use properly without exposing his voice―or climbing on someone’s shoulders, which was sure to get him injured pretty badly. 

She did her best to ignore the odd looks that the other elves gave her and focused instead on finding a path up the roof that wouldn’t be too difficult; not because she wouldn’t be able to do it (it was a relatively simple climb, after all), but because she didn’t want to expose the extent of her skills to her friends who didn’t know the truth.

After a moment, she decided on a route, then stepped forward. She placed one of her boots on the wall. Nice friction. This would be a piece of cake. She took a few steps back, took a deep breath, and ran straight for the wall.

“Rayla, what are you―” Atlas started to exclaim, but it was too late.

Rayla jumped on the wall, using her momentum to take another step upwards before she jumped up and grabbed the edge of the roof, pulling herself up a moment later.

“Woah,” she heard someone say as she straightened and dusted herself off. 

She aimed a cocky grin at the ground as she stood on the edge of the roof and performed a little bow. When she looked back up, her eyes caught Callum’s as he stared up at her, mouth agape. She supposed it was only natural; after all, he’d never actually seen her climb up anything, even if what she had just done was incredibly simple. That didn’t mean the blush spreading across her features was any less red, however. And it didn’t mean that the way she nearly fell off the roof when she remembered her recent… _ realization _ was any less clumsy.

_ “There should be a ladder up there somewhere!” _ Callum signed up at her. Rayla gave him a thumbs up and backed up to the roof to see if she could find it.

Sure enough, there was a small wooden ladder waiting on top of the roof, next to a toolbox. In all honesty, Rayla was surprised that the janitors or whoever had decided to leave it there after Callum and Ezran’s little excapade into the kitchens after their first week being at the university. But then again, the administrators didn’t know how they’d gotten into the kitchens in the first place, and probably assumed it was through the front doors, considering all the broken locks she’d been leaving around campus lately.

 It took but a moment for her to grab the ladder and, as quietly as she could (even though she was fairly certain the kitchen was abandoned at this hour), lower it to the ground. Callum shot her another grin as the ladder touched the ground, and the Moonshadow elves around him all gave her thumbs up. Gilavor simply gave her a nod, but he still seemed pretty distracted from the story she’d told earlier. She didn’t blame him; she still tensed up whenever the topic of conversation got anywhere  _ close  _ to what had happened, so she supposed the same would be true for him.

“All right, cool!” Atlas exclaimed, looking around the roof proudly. “Now what?”

_ “Remember that trapdoor Kale told us about a while ago?” _ Callum signed.

“Oh,” Kale said with a grin after Rayla translated. “Nice!”

“You’d think the school would know better than to build trapdoors into all their buildings,” Gilavor commented as he climbed onto the roof. “Sort of seems like a bad idea to me.”

“Well, the school was built back when Xadia was still at war with humans,” Zell said with a shrug. “So the architects made sure that all students would have a quick exit out in case of human attack.”

“Ugh,” Atlas groaned, looking up at the sky. “Humans ruin everything.”

Rayla looked over at Callum, who somehow only managed to look hurt for a moment before he wiped the expression from his face.

But it was Gilavor who cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets again as he raised his eyebrows at Atlas. After all, Gilavor was the one who was openly part-human.

“Oh,” Atlas said, wincing apologetically. “S-sorry, Gilavor.”

“It’s fine,” Gilavor replied, though the sullen look on his face and the tone of his voice made it clear that it really  _ wasn’t _ fine.

“So where’s this trapdoor?” Cressida asked, very tactfully.

_ “Right over here,”  _ Callum signed, leading the way over to a small door in the roof. Of course, he also nearly tripped right over it, which was a very  _ Callum  _ thing of him to do. Rayla couldn’t resist a tiny smile.

_ “Ladies first,”  _ Callum signed at her as he lifted the wooden door. He grinned at her. Her heart did a flip, which she ignored. Or tried to, at least. Instead, she did her best to fake a cocky grin at him as she dropped into the trapdoor.

The dining hall area was quiet and dark when she hit the floor, managing to land in a somewhat dignified stance despite the fact that she hadn’t been aware that the trapdoor had no ladder inside that led down.

She straightened and gave the inside of the building a onceover, even though she was pretty certain the place was abandoned for the night. She heard a rattle above her and just barely remembered to step out of the way as Callum dropped clumsily to the ground.

“Owwwww,” he moaned, lying flat on his stomach. Rayla had to resist a snicker as she helped him to his feet.

“Be quiet, dummy,” she hissed at him. “Do you want all of our friends up there to figure out you’re not mute  _ or  _ an elf?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know they’d be here? This was  _ your _ idea, after all!” Callum exclaimed in a hoarse voice, leaning closer so that they wouldn’t have to talk louder.

“It’s not  _ my  _ fault that you’re―” Rayla gulped and took a step back, because he was too close and dangerous words had nearly slipped out of her mouth.  _ It’s not my fault that you’re such a distraction and I had to find a different one! _

Callum frowned at her and took half a step in her direction. “It’s not your fault that I’m…?”

Kale dropped on top of him. Thank the  _ sources. _

Fortunately, Callum managed not to make any sound when the Moonshadow elf crushed him, but even if he did, Kale’s “OUCH!” would have been enough to drown him out.

“Oh, sorry, Callum,” Kale groaned as he rolled off of the human.

Callum offered a shaky thumbs up, face-down on the ground once again.

Rayla snorted as she helped him up for the second time in as many minutes. Why did it have to be  _ him? _

She made sure to drag him out of the way as the others dropped down too. Most of them landed clumsily, but they were all fortunate enough to not sprain an ankle or land flat on their faces like Callum.

Gilavor was the last one in, and he still looked fairly skeptical. At least he was a fairly good secret keeper, for he hadn’t given any indication to the Moonshadow elves about what they’d been up to. Rayla knew that Atlas or Kale would be likely to ask. Or Zell, because she was too curious for her own good.

“All right,” Gilavor said. “Where are the kitchens?”

“Can we at least find my textbook first?” Zell chimed in, raising a hand awkwardly. “I know it’s somewhere around here.”

Rayla shared a look with Callum. While she knew that they both liked their friends from the lunch table, she also knew that the fun would be a bit harder to have if Callum couldn’t speak. Maybe if they found Zell’s textbook, the others would either leave or give them a little space so that Callum could speak a little? She hated even thinking that. Besides, looking for the textbook in the large dining hall area would be a good chance to double check if anyone else was in the building. It would be disastrous if anyone were to discover them all now.

“Yeah!” Rayla exclaimed. “Yeah, let’s all help Zell find her book.”

Callum shot her a questioning look. She responded with a shrug.

_ Let’s just hope no cats get let out of the bag tonight,  _ she thought. As her gaze lingered on him, she added to herself,  _ Especially not that cat. That cat  stays firmly  _ in  _ the bag. _

**< |>**

It took Callum about five minutes to locate Zell’s textbook. He had a vague idea about where it could be, and sure enough, he found it on the counters where they got their food. She must have been distracted when she had gotten her food earlier in the day. An easy problem to fix. He couldn’t help but wonder why she would risk getting caught breaking into a campus building for it.

The textbook had an image of a full moon on the front and was titled  _ Academics of the Moon. _ Out of curiosity, Callum flipped to a random page and started to read, using the light from the moon filtering in from above to see.

_ The event of the blood moon is a rare occurrence, and one that only happens once every couple of hundred years. A blood moon occurs when the moon is full and when the light from the world’s sunrises and sunsets reflect onto that full moon. Hence, the blood moon is a combination of both the moon primal and the sun primal.* _

_ This allows for some interesting circumstances for both Moonshadow and Sunfire elves alike. Because the full moon―which we all know grants Moonshadow elves incredible powers―is combined with the power of the sun, Moonshadow elves, theoretically, have unusual powers which they don’t have access to under normal circumstances. Of course, none of these theories have ever been proven, but they are worth discussing. _

_ Many scholars of the primal sources have long theorized that Moonshadow elves will have access to certain powers granted to Sunfire elves during their special ‘heat-being’ mode. For example, some scholars postulate that Moonshadow elves would be able to access the self-healing capabilities that some Sunfire elves possess, and would have an immunity to extreme heat. _

_ In addition to having more powers than usual, the normal powers that Moonshadow elves have are heightened as well. Their illusions are more powerful than normal. _

_ But Sunfire elves are also able to benefit from the blood moon, though nowhere near as much. Sunfire elves are able to access the magic of their primal during the night, as opposed to only being able to access it during the day. _

_ Again, this is all theoretical. No one has ever actually seen the effects of a blood moon and recorded it accurately, but that doesn’t stop scholars from theorizing. Perhaps one day we will be able to make accurate observations of the effects of a full moon. _

_ ―Archmage Thaola Olaric, in her essay The History of the Blood Moon _

_ *To learn more about the sun primal, flip to page 347, in the back of this textbook. _

Interesting. So Zell’s textbook had some information about the blood moon? If it was truly as powerful as the textbook suggested, Callum was surprised that he hadn’t heard anything about it in Lujanne’s class. 

And he couldn’t resist the urge to read a bit about the sun primal. Gilavor’s lessons had been great for spellwork, but had covered nothing about the nature of the sun primal itself. It couldn’t hurt to do a little bit of research on his own, could it? He glanced up to make sure that Zell wouldn’t catch him with her book and then flipped to page 347 and began to read.

_ The following excerpt from a scholarly essay was written during a period of unrest between Sunfire elves and Moonshadow elves and was intended to reduce tensions between the two sides. _

_ “The sun primal is a double-edged sword. On one side―death and destruction. But on the other―life, and warmth. This concept is critical to understanding both the sun primal and why coexistence is so important in Xadia. _

_ The sun is balanced perfectly with the other primals of this earth. How, you ask? The sun feeds plants and nurtures their growth, along with filling the world with light. But the sun is also just as dangerous as it is beneficial. Forest fires, sunburn, and deserts are testament enough to that. _

_ Additionally, the sun is held in place by both the moon and sky primals. It is fairly obvious that the moon and sun are polar opposites, but they both reside in the sky, even if their purposes are different. But without the night or the moon, our world would be engulfed in heat and destruction. Likewise, without the day and the sun, the land would be shrouded in cold darkness. _

_ In short, each magical primal has its positives and negatives―all of which are fairly balanced. While the sun’s negatives are well-known, it is unwise to overlook the positives. The only magic that is truly evil is that abomination the humans practice. The primal sources are as neutral as the land itself; it all depends on how their users utilize it.” _

_ ―Sir Eragorn Plagonius, 1342 _

Huh. Callum had heard a little bit about the sun primal, but had never considered it like that. And the first time he’d used the primal stone, he thought he’d felt something similar when he’d considered its energy. Duality. Interesting.

“You found it!” Zell exclaimed.

Callum slammed the book shut quickly. He knew how book-nerds got about their books, but thankfully Zell didn’t seem too offended. She just walked over and took the textbook from him with a nod of thanks.

“What’s so important about a book, anyway?” Rayla asked, hopping over a bench to join them at the counter. 

“Books are very―” Gilavor started to shout from across the room, before he must have realized that they were technically in the middle of breaking and entering. Then, quieter, he tried again. “Books are very educational.”

“Great,” Rayla said with a roll of her eyes. “Now there’s three dorks among us.”

_ “Hey!”  _ Callum signed at her.  _ “I thought you called  _ me _ dork!” _

“Oh, relax,” she said with a wink. “You’re still my favorite.”

Oddly enough, her face contorted after she said that, as if she couldn’t believe what she had just said. She shook her head, probably to clear her thoughts―why would she need to do that?―and turned back to the rest of the group, who was waiting on the other side of the dining hall.

“Cool, you found it!” Atlas called with a thumbs up. “And there’s no one else here. Now Callum is gonna show us how to make this weird human food, right?”

Rayla looked back at Callum, a question in her eyes. They’d both been expecting them to leave, but Callum was actually more at ease with them present. For some reason, being alone (or nearly alone, anyway) with Rayla, especially after the not-so-subtle looks that Kale and Atlas had been giving him, gave him butterflies in his stomach. Besides, after the way they’d painfully reminded him and Rayla about how little time they’d all been spending together lately, he figured it wouldn’t harm anything to spend some more time with them.

_ “Come on,”  _ Callum signed at them.  _ “The kitchens are this way. They should have everything we need.” _

**< |>**

Gilavor would admit, he was very surprised that Callum knew anything about baking. But he supposed that someone from a family so obsessed with jelly tarts would probably know their way around a kitchen.

Personally, Gilavor didn’t really eat in the dining hall all that often. He’d learned the hard way his freshman year that the hard stares he got during meals because he was a half-elf could hurt more than the food was worth. Even if it was good food. Because of that, he was a bit unfamiliar with his surroundings, and he tried his best not to show his jumpiness―especially with the new Moonshadow elves around.

So Gilavor did what he did best―he acted nonchalant. He made sure to throw out a few shrugs when Callum led them into the kitchen and turned on the lights.

The kitchens themselves seemed to be a mixture of Xadian and human cooking instruments―which made sense, considering that jelly tarts and human desserts had become so popular in Xadia. From what Gilavor could remember, the same was true for Xadian desserts in the human kingdoms. At least  _ something  _ harmonious-like had come from the peace treaty so long ago.

“Callum says that cookie dough has a lot of the same ingredients as jelly tarts, so we should be able to find them around here somewhere,” Rayla said, watching Callum sign. “The only thing he isn’t sure about is the chocolate chips.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Kale said, cracking his knuckles cockily. Gilavor cocked an eyebrow. “Chefs label where they put stuff, right?”

In turns out that chefs did not, in fact, label where they put their ingredients. 

It took the group far too long to track down the basic ingredients, at least in his opinion. The only good part? It forced people to have to spread around the kitchen to look for things―which meant that Callum was alone.

Perfect.

**< |>**

_ “So,” _ Gilavor said with a smirk, sidling up next to Callum as he searched through a large cupboard for some flour. “How long have you and Rayla been a thing?”

Callum choked on his saliva and nearly fell into the small closet filled with bowls. He turned around to glare at Gilavor, and stammered in a voice soft enough that no one would hear, “Wha―Rayla? And me? A-A  _ thing?!  _ We’re―we’re not a  _ thing. _ We are  _ so _ not a  _ thing. _ Hehe.” Why was his face so hot? He cleared his throat. They were  _ not  _ a thing. Definitely not.

“Oh, give it up,” Gilavor told him with a scoff. “I saw the way you stared at her when she climbed up on the roof.”

Callum blushed, but couldn’t help it. Was it really his fault that Rayla was so amazing? Couldn’t he just recognize that without people looking at him funny?

“What? No! Rayla and I are just  _ friends. _ ” Except, that word didn’t feel right. They’d been through too much together to be considered just generic friends. “Best friends.” 

That didn’t feel right either. What was higher than best friends? He wasn’t sure.

“Pfft,” Gilavor said. When Callum looked back at him, he was rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Callum.”

Callum bit his lip. It wasn’t like that. Rayla was just a friend. An incredible, talented, compassionate friend, one he…

Right. Cookie dough. He was here for cookie dough. Cookie dough, cookie dough, cookie dough. Not the way Rayla’s eyes sparkled when she laughed like she was doing across the room with Zell. Cookie dough.

He pinched the inside of his wrist and closed the compartment he was searching through. They needed flour, not…distractions.

“Try looking on the top shelf,” Gilavor suggested, pointing up at another, smaller cabinet above the one Callum had just looked in.

Callum sighed, then looked over at one of the counters, where a stool with a big brown stain on it waited. He looked behind Gilavor to make sure that no one else was paying attention. “Can you hold that steady for me?”

Gilavor looked over at the stool, a weird look on his face. “Sure. I can do that.”

He grabbed the stool and dragged it across the floor with a loud grating sound. Then he shot Callum a grin and patted the surface. “Hop on. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

Callum nodded at him in thanks and clambered on top of the rickety stool, trying hiss best not to fall over so that he wouldn’t look like an idiot in front of all his friends in the kitchen. Rayla would never let him hear the end of it.

The cupboard above the larger one was still a bit out of reach, forcing Callum to stand on his tiptoes to reach up and open it. The stool started to teeter a bit, but fortunately Gilavor was there to steady it.

“So what’s the plan for the fencing match?” Gilavor asked in a hushed voice, out of the blue.

Callum nearly fell off his stool. When he regained his balance, he whispered back, “What do you mean?”

Judging from the slightly shaky movement of the stool, Gilavor had used one of his infamous shrugs. “Just…I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little risky to have you hanging around at the match when there are all those humans around? Won’t they recognize you? I mean, I haven’t been to the human kingdoms in months and I still managed to know who you were through your disguise.”

Callum frowned. Gilavor made a good point. Callum had thought of all of that before, but Rayla had made it sound so definitive that he had figured there was no way out of it.

“I mean, what can I do, really?” Callum asked. “Aren’t they going to take attendance at the game?”

“Rayla and I can cover for you,” Gilavor said. “Besides, it’s not like they’re going to notice one missing student out of hundreds. It’s too risky to have you at the match, especially since the fencers on the human team are from your pa’s old college.”

Callum nearly lost his balance again as he felt a pang of pain in his heart. With it came the familiar surge of anger, but this time he was able to control it. He was  _ not  _ going to become some sort of rage monster who hurt those he cared about in their quest for revenge.

But Gilavor had raised another excellent point. Soren had been on the fencing team, and with  _ Viren _ now as the president of the college, it was likely that Soren might make an appearance. Soren was a childhood friend who would be  _ sure  _ to recognize him no matter what sort of illusion spell he had up. And any sort of temporary illusion they set up wouldn’t be able to work for long, since the match was scheduled for the afternoon, when the sun was brightest and would be able to pierce any illusion he had on anyway…

“Yeah,” Callum said as he reached for the cupboard door. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t even opened it yet. “Yeah. I’ll definitely talk to Rayla about staying back in the dorm. I should probably be with Ez anyway.”

“That’s right,” Gilavor said, almost to himself. “Ezran is hiding in your dorm room. I forgot.”

“Aha!” Callum exclaimed, still using a hushed voice. “I found it!”

As Gilavor spoke, Callum had opened up the door to the small cupboard, and lo and behold, a large sack of flour sat waiting for him to take.

“Woah, careful, Callum!” Gilavor said, squinting up at the large bag. “That thing looks really heavy.”

Callum was hardly listening, already dreaming of cold cookie dough on his tongue. He stood on the tips of his toes and grabbed the bag of flour with both hands―but the minute he had it out of the cupboard, he felt all of his careful balance get thrown out the window as he teetered backwards.

_ Uh-oh. _

**< |>**

_ THUD! _

Rayla spun around, in the middle of searching for some brown sugar―only to find Callum lying on the floor, a small cloud of flour emanating from the brown bag currently sitting on his face. Behind him, a sheepish Gilavor stood, chuckling nervously when he saw everyone gaping at the situation.

“Hehe,” Gilavor said. “Uh, he found the flour?”

On the floor, Callum offered a weak thumbs up, the half-filled bag of flour still sitting on his face. A moment later, Gilavor snatched the bag off of him, put it on the counter, and helped the disguised human to his feet. But she couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Callum, you’re covered in flour!” Rayla exclaimed through a series of snorts and giggles that she couldn’t control. “You look―” She couldn’t help the second set of giggles that escaped from her, forced to put her hands on her knees to steady herself as she guffawed.

When she looked up, Callum was giving her a look that could only be described as mischievous for the second time that night. He winked at her wordlessly, grabbed a white paper bag, opened it, and chucked it at her.

Rayla was so surprised that  _ Callum  _ would throw something at her that she didn’t dodge in time, and the bag hit her with a soft  _ thud! _ A moment later, she was covered in fine white powder.

“Callum, I swear, if this is one of your stupid human drugs or something―”

Callum pursed his lips in an attempt not to laugh.  _ “No, Ray, it’s sugar.” _ Then, with another wink, he added,  _ “Because you’re so sweet.” _

Rayla blinked. And it wasn’t just because she had sugar in her eyes. The blush spreading across her cheeks had nothing to do with the sugar covering her from head to toe. 

Callum…thought she was sweet.  _ Callum thought she was sweet. _ It was  _ torture _ knowing the reason that statement made her heart pound uncontrollably. Oh,  _ why _ did it have to be him?

Thankfully, Atlas came to the rescue by grabbing a carton of eggs and nailing Kale in the side of the head with one.

“Ugh!” Kale exclaimed, wiping the yolk off the side of his head. “Atlas!”

“Uh-oh.” Rayla managed to duck just in time as Kale grabbed a nearby carton of milk and tossed it back at Atlas―but he missed, and the milk splattered all over Cressida instead.

“Ooo,” Atlas and Kale groaned at once, wincing.

Cressida blinked once, wiping milk off of her head with a hand. She turned to glare at both Kale and Atlas, who in turn both visibly withered. What was unexpected, however, was the box of baking soda that hit Kale in the side of the head a moment later―thrown by none other than Cressida herself.

Of course, then everyone thought it would be a good idea to throw food. Rayla managed to duck a handful of flour from Callum, only to be nailed in the side by an egg from Atlas. But Rayla was never one to let anyone beat her in a fight, so she grabbed the nearest carton of eggs―seriously, did the cooks just leave those lying around?―and nailed Zell in the face with one.

The kitchen was soon filled with the sounds of screams and laughter as everyone started to throw food around. Even though Rayla’s common sense was telling her to get everyone to be quiet, she couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out of her mouth. She hadn’t had this much fun in a long time; besides, who was around to hear them? And…and the way Callum was looking at her didn’t hurt either.

But the precious time she spent gaping at his  _ stupid, adorable  _ smiling face meant she was too distracted to see the vegetable oil he whipped in her direction. It splashed all over her green track jacket, staining it horribly.

Callum’s smile dropped as he noticed the glare Rayla sent his way.

“Oh, it’s  _ over _ for you, stupid prince.”

“Oh no,” Callum said in a miniscule voice only she could hear. Then he started to run.

But Callum had never been a very fast runner, and Rayla already had the advantage. She grabbed two eggs in one hand and jumped over the counter, cutting off the foolish human’s exit. She heard him curse under his breath and turn to run again, but she caught up to him in an instant and swept his legs out from under him.

Callum  _ thudded _ to the ground on his back, and Rayla was on top of him in a moment, eggs in hand. She fisted his red tunic, pulled him up a little with a grin, and smashed an egg into his hair.

But Callum, being his normal, good-natured self, just started to  _ laugh. _ There was too much noise in the room for anyone else to hear it, but Rayla could hear it just fine. He laughed so hard that he started to shake and had to close his eyes, and she couldn’t help but join in too.

“Hahaha―Rayla, that’s― _ hahaha _ ―” he tried to say, but he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. The yellow egg yolk dripped down his face.

For a minute, they just guffawed together, and it was the best laugh she’d had in a long time. It was always like that with Callum, she realized. He helped her open up, and she couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But eventually the laughter stalled, and they were left simply staring at each, rather dumbly on Rayla’s part. She hadn’t noticed how close she’d dragged his face to hers in her food-assisted rage, but sense came back to her in a moment. They were so close that she could feel his breath on her face, and the egg in her free hand dropped to the floor as soon as she realized their  _ predicament. _

“Uh,” Callum blurted out, face turning as red as the ketchup someone spilled on the floor.

“Um,” Rayla stammered. Her eyes remained firmly on the upper half of his face. They  _ did  _ not stray to any point lower on his face.

They absolutely did. And she  _ hated  _ it.

Then someone squirted mustard on the side of her head, and the spell was broken. Taken by complete surprise, Rayla tumbled off of Callum and landed in a puddle of vinegar.

Swallowing her embarrassment, she scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could and grabbed a tomato to toss at the nearest person to her, hoping it would distract Callum―and more importantly,  _ herself _ ―from what had just happened.

And it seemed to work, for Callum was up in a moment and tossing a banana peel at Gilavor.  _ Thank the sources. _

The food fight lasted for a few more minutes before they started to run out of food. Then, of course, Kale and Atlas started to scoop the remainders off the floor and throw it.

“Truce!” Cressida cried out through tears of laughter. “Truce!”

Kale hurled one more egg yolk at her before lifting his hands in surrender when she aimed a glare at him.

“So, uh…” Gilavor said, wiping the ketchup on his hands off. “No cookie dough?”

Callum sighed as he looked around at the mess of the kitchen.  _ “I think we’d be lucky if we could make a sandwich out of this mess.” _

“But!” Zell said with a grin, holding up a few white towels. “This kitchen does have towels!”

“Hey, that’s a good idea,” Rayla said, taking a few of the towels from the open drawer next to Zell. Then she balled them up and tossed them across the room toward the boys. Each towel nailed them in the face.

“Hey!” Atlas protested. His towel―along with his face―was already covered in several different food items.

“You’re all filthy,” Rayla deadpanned, choosing not to look at Callum or the egg she had smashed in his hair.

“You’re not much better,” Gilavor pointed out in a flat voice.

“Yeah, but  _ we _ want to towel off over  _ here, _ ” Cressida said, grabbing Rayla by the neck of her track jacket and dragging her over to the corner of the kitchen.

“Wha―” Rayla started, but Zell stomped on her foot.

“You guys towel off over there, and we’ll be over here!” Cressida said with obvious faux-cheerfulness. “Talking. Alone.”

_ What in the name of the primal sources―?  _ Rayla thought, frowning at her two friends.  _ Am I being kidnapped? _

“Er…okay?” Kale said, but Rayla wasn’t really paying attention to him anymore.

“ _ What _ is going on with you two?” Rayla demanded as Zell put a towel in her hand.

“What is going on with  _ you?” _ Cressida demanded right back in a hushed voice.

“What―what do you mean?” Rayla replied, all too aware of the various activities she’d been up to lately which could be misconstrued.

“What do you mean,  _ ‘what do you mean?’ _ ” Zell asked with a cocked eyebrow. “That egg in Callum’s hair says a lot more than you think.”

Rayla couldn’t help it. She blushed. Deeply.

Cressida covered her face with her hand. “Rayla, you are many things, but you are terrible at hiding your emotions.”

Rayla wanted to melt into the floor. “Is…is it that obvious?”

Zell rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t be any more obvious if you wrote it on your forehead.”

Rayla’s eyes flicked to the doorway. She was a fast runner; faster than Zell and Cressida, certainly. She could get out of this no problem. She didn’t have to talk about this. She didn’t have to address the pit in her stomach or the butterflies in her heart. She didn’t  _ have  _ to.

But she sighed. If there was one thing she had learned from being friends with Callum, it was that hiding from her feelings was not healthy, and it wasn’t the way she wanted to do things anymore.

“I…” she started, glancing across the room at the boy in question. He was busy wiping the egg out of his hair, face flushed from the food fight. Oh, why did he have to look like… _ that? _ Even covered in food, he looked good.  _ Why did this have to happen to her? _

She swallowed and looked back at her two friends. “I can’t have feelings for him. You don’t get it.”

Zell raised her eyebrows. “No one said anything about feelings.”

“Wha―”

“Zell, stop teasing her,” Cressida chastised the other girl. She looked back at Rayla, crossed her arms, and leaned against the counter. “Rayla, you’re thinking about this all wrong. It’s not a matter of whether you’re  _ able  _ to be in love with Callum, because it’s pretty clear to the rest of us that you have been for a while.”

“Wha― _ love?!  _ I didn’t say  _ love―” _

“Your face did,” Cressida deadpanned. “At the lunch table this morning, when you shoved that egg in Callum’s hair, and right now.”

“For the record, I called it the first day you brought him to our table,” Zell added, lifting up a spoon with cookie dough on it. “You all owe me two bottles of moonberry juice.”

“Zell!” Cressida said, glaring at her.

“Sorry.”

“The weird, stupid thing about love,” Cressida continued, adjusting her position leaning against the counter, “is that you never get to pick who you fall in love with. It just  _ happens. _ You don’t  _ get  _ to choose. You can only choose how you deal with it.”

Rayla bounced on the balls of her feet, unable to explain anything about how she felt. “But you  _ don’t _ understand, Callum is…he’s  _ really _ different, and…”

“Because he’s mute, or because he’s a Skywing elf?” Zell asked with another cocked eyebrow.

“What? No! It’s not because of either of those, you don’t…” Rayla took a breath. “Callum is just…I don’t think it would ever work out. Even if he…even if he did feel the same way, people―they wouldn’t understand.”

“So what?” Cressida said.

Rayla blinked. “What?”

“So what that people won’t like it?”

Rayla did her best to swallow her confusion. “I…it might end up hurting him. People wouldn’t like it, and they might…they might decide to hurt him.”

Zell rolled her eyes. “I may read a lot of books and don’t interact with people a lot, but even  _ I  _ know that love is about trusting each other, Rayla. Love is about helping each other get better.”

“Exactly,” Cressida agreed with a nod. “Whatever happens, you two should be able to handle it together. We all know what a great team you two are, and that’s without knowing anything about what you’ve been up to these past few weeks.”

“Love is…about trust,” Rayla repeated, frowning. It…couldn’t be that easy, could it?

But then she looked over, only to find Callum smiling over at their friends with white flour in his hair, chocolate smeared on his mouth, and a brilliant light in his green eyes. His smile was wide and his eyes were shining and  _ he _ was the reason they were all there, having fun, being stupid.

_ That _ was why she loved him. Callum brought happiness and joy to everyone around him, he was a huge dork, and he was a brilliant and compassionate person. She would love him all the same if he were an elf, but he wasn’t. He was a human, but she loved him. 

No, actually, scratch that. He was a human,  _ and  _ she loved him. Part of the reason he was the way he was was because he was a human. And she  _ loved _ him.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh, still looking at him. “Yeah, maybe you two are right.”

Cressida sighed. “Zell, does this place have moonberry juice lying around anywhere? I really  _ do  _ owe you for that bet.”

Rayla blinked and looked back over at them. “Wait. Did you guys  _ really  _ make that bet the first day Callum sat down at our table?”

“Duh,” Zell said. Cressida elbowed her in the side.

“But Callum seems like the oblivious type,” Cressida told Rayla with a wink. “So I wouldn’t worry.”

“I…uh, don’t really want to uh…” Rayla started, but she was soon interrupted by the sound of a door slamming.

Oh no.

“Someone’s coming!” Kale hissed from across the room.

“Obviously, Kale!” Zell hissed right back. “Is there any way out of here?”

Callum shook his head, looking panicked. Rayla cursed. Of all the things to get caught for, rampaging through a kitchen was  _ not  _ what she thought it would be. 

“Okay, everyone get over here,” Cressida declared in a commanding voice.

Rayla frowned and looked over at the door of the kitchen as everyone scrambled to get to the corner of the room. There was a light flashing underneath the wooden door to the room that looked like an illumination spell a Sunfire elf might use; she knew that many members of the campus police were Sunfire elves.

Oh, this was really not good. If Rayla, Callum, and Gilavor were caught here, the university would be sure to give them some sort of punishment, and would pay closer attention to what they were getting up to in the evenings.

“Okay,” Cressida said, brow furrowed. It was rather crowded in the small corner of the kitchen, and the smell of spilled food was very potent. “Atlas, Kale, Zell. You guys remember that spell they taught us in class, right?”

Right. They were all older than her.

“Maybe,” Kale said. Cressida stomped on his toe as the light under the kitchen door. “I mean yes!”

“Then do it, idiot!”

Rayla took a step back and nearly collided with Callum. She shot him a concerned look as the four Moonshadow elves lifted their fingers and began tracing symbols in the air.

“What are they doing?” Callum’s voice whispered in her ear, a rush of warmth that made her face flush despite the dire circumstances.

“Uh,” Rayla whispered back, watching the light under the door grow brighter. “I think they’re casting an invisibility spell? Some of the older moon mage majors learn it in their classes.”

Indeed, that was what it seemed to be, for she recognized the  _ mystica _ symbol as the center of the spell. The unfamiliar part was the triangle-like symbol drawn around it with a circle inside.

“ _ Mystica-invisus!” _ four voices exclaimed. Before Rayla could properly figure out what was actually happening, there was a bright flash of silver light, and then the door to the kitchen slammed open.

Rayla held her breath as the uniformed campus guard stepped into the kitchen, his golden eyes bugging out of his head as he observed the mess they’d made in the kitchen. In his hand, he held a ball of glowing yellow light, and she had to bite her tongue to keep herself from sucking in a breath when the light it cast shone over them.

But nothing happened. In fact, the campus guard looked right at the small group huddled in the corner, his eyes lingering on their hiding spot for but a moment, before moving on.

“Oh, Pharon is  _ so  _ going to fire me,” the guard muttered, giving the room a final once-over before turning and running out the door.

It was not a moment too soon, for the spells that the group had casted fell a moment later in another flash of silver light.

Rayla let out the breath she had been holding and slumped over, putting her hands on her knees.

“That was too close.”

**< |>**

A pair of polished leather boots stomped on a budding flower.

Viren tutted in disgust as the pulp from the plant exploded over the tip of his shoe, staining the brown an ugly yellow. He scraped the remains of the plant off of his shoe with his cane, and rolled his shoulders back as he observed the wilderness of Xadia.

“Ah!” a young voice exclaimed as the carriage creaked behind Viren. “There is something so invigorating about a midnight―”

“Soren, please try to focus,” Viren interrupted, turning to look at his son. “We  _ are _ here for serious business, after all.”

The tall boy visibly deflated. “Er―yes, father.”

Viren sighed. While Soren was twenty-two now and on his last year of university, he still had yet to mature. Both of his children had yet to mature, but Viren had asked Claudia to stay home in order for her to watch over his…experiments. That meant that this important mission hinged on the performance of his son, and Viren was…apprehensive, to say the least.

Soren cleared his throat. “Father, why have we stopped here? We’re still a few days away from the elven university. This is the middle of nowhere!”

Viren rolled his eyes and didn’t even bother to turn to look at the boy. “I have a business meeting with an…associate who lives around these parts. He will be here momentarily. I expect to be left  _ alone _ when he arrives.”

He shot a pointed look toward the Katolis guards who stood around the paused carriage. More than once, he had caught a nosy guard in paces that they shouldn’t have been. Replacing guards quietly was  _ expensive. _ Granted, it was much easier now that Harrow wasn’t around to smell out trouble, but it was still an unfavorable outcome.

A sudden flash of lights farther off in the woods caught Viren’s attention. It was a deep purple, and flashed three times.

Excellent. That was the signal.

“He’s here,” Viren told his traveling company. “Now, I am going to meet with him, and you are  _ all  _ going to stay here.” He sent a look toward Soren so that his son would get the message. Thankfully, he nodded in understanding.

Viren straightened his jacket and strode off in the direction of Aaravos’s signal, a grin spreading across his face.

They had much to discuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter so far, at 9.4k! This was a beast of a chapter to write, but it was SO worth it. Things will get...interesting in the next chapter, to say the least. ;)  
> ALSO THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS READ THIS BECAUSE THIS IS ALMOST AT 4K HITS!!!  
> (also, thanks once again to skymagemar for betaing! read her fic or forfeit your kneecap priveleges.)


	16. The Fencing Match (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now all he had to do was be a traitor.

For the second time in as many weeks, Gilavor strode into Aaravos’s office in an agitated state. This time, however, it was the middle of the day, and he had good reason to be agitated―the professor had somehow slipped a note under his door the night before asking to see him at  _ that specific time _ . Didn’t he know how dangerous it was for Gilavor if someone spotted him walking into Aaravos’s office? Didn’t he know how much was at risk?

Gilavor reminded himself to take a deep breath before he opened the door to the Startouch elf’s office. Aaravos was a manipulative genius; he always knew what to do. If he was bringing Gilavor into his office at this time of day, it was for a good reason.

As always, Aaravos was waiting at his desk for Gilavor, hands folded neatly in front of him. In front of him sat two slips of paper. Gilavor frowned at them as he shut the door behind him.

“There you are, Gilavor,” Aaravos purred. His dark eyes glanced at the clock on the wall across from him. “You’re late.”

“I had to make sure that no one saw me,” Gilavor replied, crossing his arms as he crossed the room to stand in front of the desk. Again, he glanced down at the pieces of paper, folded in half nicely. “What are those for?”

“That is what we are here to discuss. Please sit.”

Gilavor sat.

Aaravos stared at him carefully for a moment, as if measuring his loyalty. He had this strange way of doing that―he could understand someone’s intentions and deepest desires simply from looking at them. It was a rather strange gift that quite honestly disturbed Gilavor.

“One of the most important parts of the plan comes to fruition today,” Aaravos eventually said. He gestured to the pieces of paper in front of him with one of his fingers. “Your part in it is detailed on the paper to your left.”

Gilavor shot Aaravos a confused look, then reached for the paper. As soon as his hand made contact with the parchment, Aaravos’s star-speckled hand shot out and latched onto Gilavor’s wrist.

Gilavor flinched, looking up to meet Aaravos’s eager eyes.

“Your part of the plan is…different than you might expect. You are not to read this piece of paper until the first fencing match begins. Once you read it, you are to burn it and blow away the ashes. Do you understand?”

Gilavor’s brow furrowed. “I understand.” He hesitated. “What do you mean, my part of the plan is ‘different’ than I expected?”

Aaravos’s eyes seemed to bore holes into him. Gilavor had never before seen him this…serious, for lack of a better word.

Aaravos’s next words punched into Gilavor’s chest like each one was a fireball.

“You will not be the one to kill Rayla.”

Gilavor gaped at him for a moment. Then:

_ “What do you mean I won’t be the one to kill Rayla?” _

Fire burst into being on top of his skull, enveloping his hair and his horns in flames as his fingers glowed red hot. He could feel anger pulsing through his veins like lava at the unfairness of it all, because this had been the sole focus of his life for  _ four years,  _ this had been the only thing he had focused on, throwing away anything else that interfered with it, and now Aaravos was just telling him that none of it _ had mattered, because he wouldn’t be the one to drive a blade into Rayla’s heart? _

Then screaming pain was biting into his skull with no warning, making him topple from his chair as his magic turned off. White-hot pain, like he imagined a burn to feel like, pulsed at the base of his horns, making it hard to think or do much of  _ anything _ other than just writhe on the floor as the torture spread from his head to his chest to his toes and  _ everything hurt and― _

And then Aaravos appeared over him, staring down at him impassively. Magic glowed purple in his left hand, the same color that Gilavor knew his horns must have been glowing.

“Sacrifices had to be made,” he said in an emotionless voice. “Are you not happy with your part in the plan? You are still indirectly involved in her demise.”

“N-no,” Gilavor gasped, tears pricking at his eyes as his fingers dug into the floor. Breathing was a struggle, speaking a burden. “The plan…is f-fine.”

“Excellent,” the Startouch elf replied, still leering down at him. He let the pain go on for a few more moments before he released his magical hold on Gilavor’s horns.

And like a passing wind, the agony faded like it had never been there. Gilavor buried his face in the floor, reveling in the feeling of being  _ okay. _

“I will not let anything interfere with these plans, do you understand?” Aaravos’s voice came, full of something similar to malice. “Not even you. Get up.”

Gilavor nodded and pushed himself up with shaking arms. He  _ hated _ it when Aaravos did that. But that was the point; it was a contingency plan to keep him in line. Aaravos had only ever had to do it a handful of times, but that was a small price to pay for Gilavor’s justice.

Shakily, Gilavor pulled himself back into his seat, steadying himself by gripping the arms of the chair. He still had an awful headache―a side effect that would last for at least an hour or two.

“Wh…what’s the other piece of paper for?” he somehow gathered the courage to ask.

“That,” Aaravos said, sitting back down and resuming his position from before, “is a piece of paper you are only to read if something goes wrong. Unlikely, but still a possibility. Do not lose it.”

Gilavor blinked sweat out of his eye. “Is that all?”

“Yes. Can you do this? Can I trust you to get your part of the job done, even if it doesn’t…agree with you?”

He swallowed. “Y-Yes. You can count on me. I’ll…get it done.”

“Good,” Aaravos said, eyes still shining with that horrible emotion:  _ happiness. _ “Then today is the day that Rayla dies.”

**< |>**

Callum was already avidly pacing when Rayla stopped by his dorm room. He was restless; why wouldn’t he be? There were countless humans on campus at that very moment, any of which could recognize him if given the chance.

He was so busy worrying about it all that he didn’t even notice the knocks on the door until Ezran threw a pillow at him.

“Wha―?” Callum started, nearly tripping over the pillow as it fell to the ground. “What was that for?”

Bait glowed an amused pink as Ezran rolled his eyes and pointed to the door. “Your girlfriend is here.”

That time, Callum  _ did  _ trip. It was a good thing he was standing in front of his bed, otherwise he might have cracked his head open on the floor. When he recovered, leaning awkwardly against his bedpost, he sent a glare toward his brother.

“She’s  _ not  _ my girlfriend,” Callum said. His voice cracked. “We’re―we’re just friends.”

Ezran rolled his eyes again―he was probably spending too much time around Rayla when she came to visit―and, as Callum took a breath and walked toward the door, he thought he heard the boy mutter, “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Callum chose to ignore him, but the burning in his cheeks wouldn’t let him forget it. Why did everyone think that? There wasn’t…they weren’t…he sighed and focused on turning the door handle to rid himself of those kind of thoughts.

Rayla was leaning against the doorframe, a confident smirk on her lips. “Hey, nervous prince.”

…the thoughts were back.

Callum cleared his throat as his blush came back full-force for unknown reasons. Rayla was already dressed in her fencing gear―a black leather vest over a tough green cuirass. Both were supposed to protect her from falls and scrapes, or at least that’s what he had heard when he’d watched the team’s fencing practice. He’d never seen her wear it up close before; apparently, it was school policy that the fencers had to return their armor first before they did anything else after practice. He supposed it made sense. If people started walking around in armor on campus, the dumber students would probably start doing stunts that would get them hurt. It had happened a lot back at Katolis University, before his step-father had instituted a similar rule.

He found it a bit calming to think about old rules and regulations. It was easier than trying to disect why his face was still burning a little bit.

Callum did his best to swallow his nervousness about everything and his chaotic thoughts as well. “Hey, Rayla.” He frowned. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be down at Sylva Field all day?”

Rayla shrugged as she stepped into the room. “I’m  _ supposed  _ to be, but I figured I’d stop by and…check in before I head out to the field. You’re sure you don’t want to come?”

He shot her an anxious smile as he shut the door behind her. “The humans would probably recognize me, remember?”

“I know,” she grumbled. “I’d…just feel better keeping an eye on you, I guess.”

He grinned at her, and she glared at her and punched him in the arm as she walked past to go sit on his bed.

“Hey, Ez!” Rayla cheerfully exclaimed, though Callum could tell that it was a little forced.

Apparently Ezran could too, because he cocked his head at her and said, “Are you…okay?”

She slouched and sat cross-legged on Callum’s bed. “I’m  _ fayne _ . I’m just…worried.”

Ezran hugged Bait, who was glowing purple, to his chest. “Because of the humans who are here.” He nodded toward the window.

Callum frowned. He knew he should have found some curtains, at least until this was all over. Even though Sylva Field wasn’t visible from their dorm, the many tents that the humans from Katolis had set up were. It made his heart ache to see the scarlet and gold cloth of his home country just half a mile away, but he would much rather keep Ezran and the rest of his new friends safe than go out there and risk everything.

The human fencers had arrived two days ago, and Callum had been locked in his room ever since. Rayla had told everyone else that he had come down with some elven variant of the flu, and no one had come to check up on him as a result. Other than her, of course.

“Well…” Rayla sighed. “Yeah. I’m worried about you two.”

“Rayla, we’ll be fine,” Callum said, sitting next to her on the bed and putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll stay in here the whole time until they leave tomorrow. Besides, we’ve got you to look out for us in case anything goes wrong.”

“Yeah, well, I’m really hoping that nothing is going to go wrong,” she replied. Then, in a softer voice and without meeting his eyes, “I don’t want anything to happen to you. E-Either of you.”

Callum squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I trust you. Completely. I’m sure Ez does too.”

Ezran coughed, a knowing little smirk on his face. “Yeah, I trust you too, Rayla.”

Callum shot him a confused look, but Rayla started talking again before he could get a proper explanation out of his sibling for why he was acting that way.

“I mean…just in case, I want you to take these,” she said, reaching for her back and pulling out the mechanisms that housed her swords.

Callum gaped at her for a moment. “Rayla, no! I can’t take those, those are  _ your  _ swords. Besides, I don’t even know how to use them! I’m better with magic. And don’t you need them for the tournament?”

She shook her head at him, a small smile on her face. “No, I use a different set of swords for the tournament. I can’t very well bring my own weapons to a fencing tournament, can I? That’d raise a lot of questions that nobody wants answered.”

She gently put the steel instruments in his hands, their hands brushing for just a moment. The metal was warm from being against her skin, and the gesture of her handing them over seemed…strangely intimate for some reason. Perhaps it was the solemnity with which she handed them over, or perhaps it was the dusting of pink across her cheeks that definitely wasn’t part of his imagination.

“I don’t think you’ll need to use them,” Rayla told him, still not meeting his eyes and choosing to stare down at his hands instead. “But just in case something goes wrong, I think it would be better for you to have them. You don’t have any breeze in here, anyway.”

“I can open a window. I’d feel better if you held onto these, Ray.”

“And  _ I’d _ feel better if you could just do this,” she responded in a voice that was filled with just as much softness and worry as his. When he opened his mouth to argue again, she put a hand on his knee and cut him off with, “ _ Please,  _ just…do it for me, Cal. Now, let me show you how to open them―”

“Cal,” Callum said, rather dumbly, as she started to move her hands towards the swords held limply in his hands again. She’d called him that before, of course, but never…like that. Never with that much softness in her voice, and never before had it brought him this much warmth.

Rayla blinked at him, looking him in the eye for just a moment before looking down at the swords again. “U-um, yeah. Is that okay? Th-that I called you that?” He could hear the doubt in her voice.

Across the room, Ezran snorted, watching them as he laid down on the bed with his legs waving enthusiastically in the air. Callum ignored him and the subsequent blush that appeared on his own face.

“Yeah. I…I like it, actually.”

He could have slapped himself.  _ Why  _ had he said that? It sounded like he was stupid!

But Rayla―if his eyes weren’t mistaking him―seemed to blush deeper, and her eyes bored holes in the metal of her swords. “Um. Okay. About the swords…” She cleared her throat and took one of the swords from him. “You just press this mechanism down and flip it up to get the sword out, okay? It’s not that hard, and you should be able to use it as a last resort in case some…thing happens.” Her eyes slid over to Ezran as she spoke, and Callum immediately understood that she didn’t want to freak him out.

“Ray, I really don’t think I’m going to need―”

“Callum,” Rayla said, finally meeting his gaze. There was a look in her violet eyes that made his words dry up―something intensely protective and earnest. He’d never realized how much he admired those traits in her until that moment. Come to think of it, he’d never really realized how much he loved her eyes until that moment either, all awash with unwavering emotion.

“I need you to take these for me,” she said in a soft, but stubborn, voice. “It’s…more for my state of mind, okay? It will make me feel better to know that you have just one more layer of protection. I don’t…I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to…to either of you.”

“O…Okay,” Callum sighed dumbly, still staring at her eyes. Had they always been so bright? They had to have been. Maybe he had just been oblivious until that moment, but she truly looked beautiful when she was determined. 

Actually, she looked beautiful all the time, now that he thought about it…

“Good!” Rayla exclaimed suddenly, snapping him out of it before he could follow that train of thought any further. She flipped the sword back to position and gave it back to him before standing. “Now I should…I should really be going.”

“Rayla, wait,” Callum said, standing clumsily and grabbing her arm as she started to walk away.

She paused, looking back at him with a gaze so much more intense than before that he temporarily lost his ability to breathe. Was that normal? It didn’t feel normal.

“Uh,” Callum started, realizing that he’d had something to say but had forgotten what it was. Why was this happening all of a sudden? It had to be nerves because of the fencing match. Yes, that was it. It was nerves. That made sense, since nervousness had always been a weak point for him.

Across the room, Ezran hid a snicker, and for once Callum was grateful, for it jarred him out of his nervous haze and made him remember exactly what he’d been thinking when he’d grabbed Rayla’s arm.

He released her arm and reached instead for the scarf around his neck, hands shaking just slightly when he glanced up and saw her staring at him. He racked it up to being worried about her. Who knew how this fencing match would go, especially with all the…issues between humans and elves that were still prevalant.

“Here,” Callum said, holding out the scarf for her to take. “I want you to have this.”

Her eyes widened as she looked down at the scarf. “Oh, Callum, I can’t take this. It’s yours, I―”

“Hey,” he told her with a smile, closing her fingers around the fabric of the scarf. “Do it for me, okay? I’d feel better if you had it.”

Rayla opened her mouth once or twice to protest, but when he gave her hands a little squeeze, she snapped it shut, her face now as scarlet as the scarf she held in her hands.

“Um, but wh-why are you…giving this to me?” she asked, lifting up the scarf. “It’s…I know it’s really important to you.”

"Oh," Callum said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. Now it was his turn to blush. "Well, uh, in human culture, if you want to wish someone good luck, you, uh...you give them an article of your clothing as a-a favor." He didn't tell her that people who gave out those sort of things were usually  _ romantically involved. _ Just thinking that made his palms sweat.

She smiled up at him. "Wow," she breathed. "That's...really, uh. That's really sweet of you, Callum."

He returned the smile, but stammered for a moment as he tried to continue. Since when did he stammer around her? “Um. Be…be careful, okay Ray? I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, either.”

Rayla blinked at him once. Then that intense look creeped back into her eyes as she stared at him, and suddenly it didn’t matter that he’d taken off his scarf―he was way too warm anyway, from the top of his head to the ends of his toes.

Then, without warning, she was jerking forward, grabbing his shoulder and placing her lips gently on his cheek. She lingered there for a moment, almost nervously, before she pulled away, eyes now on the floor.

“I’ll be careful,” she said in a voice that was much smaller than usual. Her face had to be just as red as his was, though surely she didn’t feel as ready to combust as he did. “Just…you be careful too, all right? I need you here with me.”

“Uh―” Callum started, but she had already freed herself from his grip and was out the door.

He stared after her for a minute, brain replaying what had just happened over and over again for him to see. She’d…she’d kissed him on the cheek! And…it hadn’t felt bad. Quite the opposite, actually, if the pounding of his heart and the dumb smile on his face was any indication.

Ezran suddenly burst out laughing, breaking Callum’s gaze away from the door. 

“Ha!” he exclaimed, as Bait turned pink in his arms. “Try saying that you’re just friends now, ‘Cal!’”

**< |>**

Aaravos watched the humans.

They were…interesting creatures. Versatile. Where the elves used their magic to set up tents and make Sylva Field ready for the tournament, the humans used tools and eyed the elves suspiciously. They had been banned from using dark magic while in Xadia. 

Dark magic. Another versatile aspect of the humans. They really were quite fascinating.

So Aaravos watched the humans.

And he smiled.

**< |>**

Gilavor ignited the note in his hand with a grimace. His horns still ached with the severity of the spell that Aaravos had used, which meant that the spell Gilavor currently held in his hand was flickery and not as intense as it could have been. But that was okay; anything to get the job done. He would be back to full strength by the proper time, and then everything would fall into place. 

Hopefully.

Now all he had to do was be a traitor.

**< |>**

Callum’s neck was cold.

Of course, his whole body was cold―which was why he was curled up under the blankets of his bed―but for some reason, the coldness of his neck felt significant.

He’d never really been without that scarf before. It had been a gift from his step-father for his fifteenth birthday, and hadn’t even really been a “main” gift, just something from Katolis University’s gift shop. But Callum had loved it because Harrow had spent much more time than he should have making sure that the gift shop had plenty of scarves in stock so that he could buy one for his step-son.

But Callum wanted Rayla to hold on to it for a little bit. It made him feel just a little bit better, knowing that she had a piece of him with her when she went up against the humans. He knew all too well the prejudice that humans and elves had for each other, for he’d been on both sides of the border and had seen the two types of bias first hand. The past few weeks, he’d overheard more than one nasty comment about humans, brought about by the fencing tournament. And he knew how verbal humans could be about their dislike for elves as well. He didn’t want her to go through that alone. He wanted to give her a reminder that not all humans thought like that, just as she constantly reminded him that not all elves were that way either.

Callum sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. He was probably worrying too much. Rayla was tough―tougher than he could ever be―and she was more than capable of handling herself in a fight, from what he had seen during their practices. He was surprised that the humans had even bothered coming to the tournament, for their simple fighting style (in comparison to that of the elves’, at least) was sure to put them at a disadvantage.

He looked across the room at Ezran, who was avidly reading one of the books that Rayla had brought him. Based on the cover, Callum guessed it was the book that covered the abilities of Earthblood elves, but he decided not to ask Ezran any questions about it just yet, for he looked very sucked in to its contents. 

Callum smiled to himself. It was nice to see Ezran getting excited about something, especially after everything that had happened. Callum felt somewhat guilty, for he felt as if he hadn’t been spending as much time with his little brother as he should have. Was he getting enough support? Did he need to talk about anything? Was he doing okay? From the outside, it seemed that way, but Callum knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.

He sighed again. It was torture, sitting in his dorm room while everything exciting was going on at Sylva Field. He wondered if Aaravos would be there. After all, he was friends with the president of the opposing university―something that probably wasn’t a known fact. And as unlikely as it was that Viren himself would make an appearance, there was always a chance that he was there, on campus, just a short walk away…

Callum pinched the skin on the inside of his wrist to force himself away from that line of thinking. It wouldn’t do anyone any good for him to get angry in the middle of the dormitory when there was nowhere to channel it…healthily, as Rayla had said.

So instead he reached over to his dresser and grabbed the book of Xadian paintings that Rayla had given him. Despite the fact that it had been several weeks and the librarians were surprisingly aggressive about tracking down late books, she had refused to take it back from him, saying only, “It’s a gift, Callum.”

He smiled to himself as he flipped through a couple of the pages of the book. It was an amusing thought, imagining a scrawny librarian try to hunt Rayla down as she climbed and flipped away. He might try to draw that later. At least Ezran would get a kick out of it, and maybe she would too.

Callum paused as he went to turn a page, his eyes fixating on one painting in particular, one that took up a whole page of the book. It was an image of a half moon rising over a field of berry bushes. The brush strokes were short, creating a psychedelic affect that the vibrant colors only served to enhance. Xadian artists really were talented.

But it was the moon that Callum’s eyes really focused on. It was the brightest part of the painting, casting light over the entire landscape―light that transformed into a variety of other colors. It was beautiful.

And it reminded him of Rayla.

As soon as that thought entered his head, Callum slapped a hand over his mouth as if he had said something wrong. That was…he was only thinking of her because of what she’d told him about the old Moonshadow proverb. It was a beautiful saying, just like the moon! It didn’t mean anything that he’d thought of her! It didn’t mean anything that every time he thought the word beautiful he thought of her face!

That…that was normal, right? Friends could think of each other as beautiful and wonderful without it meaning anything, right? Even if he was blushing?

Even if he was sitting on a bed that still smelled liked her, even after several weeks…?

“Bad Callum,” he told himself, twisting his ear as some sort of reprimand. “Don’t think like that.”

“What  _ are  _ you thinking about?” Ezran asked as he looked up from his book, making Callum jump so high he nearly fell off the bed.

“N―Nothing!” Callum exclaimed, his voice cracking terribly. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about anyone!”

_ Liar, _ a voice in his head told him. He realized, with some bitterness, that it was his own. 

_ Shut up, me, _ he told himself, even if he knew that he was right.

Ezran looked on with an amused face. “You  _ do _ know that you’re not convincing anyone, right?”

“Shut up,” Callum muttered as his face burned even hotter. He buried his face in the book again, even though his eyes weren’t really seeing the page.

He’d found it very difficult the past few weeks to  _ not _ think of Rayla. It seemed she was never far from the forefront of his mind. Even his nightmares had been replaced with dreams of her, which he found a bit odd but much preferable to what his subconscious had been showing him at night before. Sometimes he didn’t mind thinking of her, like during a boring lecture, whereas other times the harder he tried to  _ not _ think of her, the more she popped into his head. Like now, for instance.

For the millionth time, he found himself turning over what had happened an hour ago.

Why hadn’t she been able to look him in the eye? Had he looked bad? Had there been something in his teeth? Oh, there’d been something in his teeth, hadn’t there? 

…why did he care? He shouldn’t care. This was just  _ Rayla _ . But her name sent shivers down his spine in a way that he couldn’t fully explain but that he knew was in a good way. Strange.

And her lips had been so soft and warm on his cheek…

Callum buried his face in his pillow.

…his pillow which,  _ somehow _ , managed to  _ still smell like moonberries and pine. _

He groaned. It shouldn’t be so hard not to think of her! It should be easy! He couldn’t even start to sketch without it vaguely resembling her, for crying out loud! Not to mention any time he looked at an egg…

His brain really was trying to torture him, wasn’t it? Well, if it was going to make him think about it no matter what, he might as well go along with it to get it over with.

Callum…couldn’t forget that moment in the kitchen, when Rayla had smashed an egg in his hair. He’d tried. It hadn’t worked very well. It had been a week, and yet he couldn’t un-remember how close his face had been to hers, close enough to see every shade of purple in her eyes. He couldn’t forget the strange urge he’d had to get even closer, to smell more of her, to…

He couldn’t even finish the thought. It felt  _ wrong  _ to think those sort of things, but it also felt  _ right _ at the same time, and  _ by the six primal sources, he was so confused _ . With the kiss she’d laid on his cheek layered on top, he was sure that he was going to combust from a mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and  bewilderment .

Callum groaned into his pillow. He needed to clear his head. The room was too stuffy and too full of…thoughts. He needed something that would get his mind away from…all of that. He wasn’t sure what sort of conclusion could be drawn from everything in his head, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out yet. Maybe food would be a good way to get his mind off things…?

“Hey, Ezran,” Callum said, sitting up and looking over at his brother, who was still firmly engrossed in his book. Callum had to repeat his name a few times before the other boy looked up. “Do we have any jelly tarts left?”

Immediately, Ezran winced, and Bait glowed a dark blue before burying himself under the covers. “Uh…no? Bait and I sort of…ate them all? A couple hours ago?”

Callum pinched the bridge of his nose as his stomach grumbled. He himself had had a very small breakfast, for he had been too nervous to eat much when he had first woken up. They usually kept a small stash of jelly tarts in the closet, mostly for snacking but also for nostalgia.

“It’s fine!” Callum exclaimed in a voice that he hoped came across as cheery. “We can just wait until the tournament lets out for the day, since classes have been cancelled, and then―” His stomach grumbled again. He sighed. “Ez, have you had lunch?” His brother shook his head. Callum sighed again and unwrapped himself from his blanket. It was one thing for him to go hungry; it was another for Ezran to go hungry.

“Callum, what are you doing?” Ezran asked, sitting up a little straighter as he watched his older brother stretch.

Callum reached up to rub out a knot in his neck, then had to remind himself why his scarf was no longer there. “I’m going to go get some food, Ez. I won’t be long.”

Bait immediately flashed purple, and Ezran mirrored his glow toad’s worried expression. “I don’t know, Callum, maybe you shouldn’t―”

“I’ll be fine, Ez,” Callum said, checking his reflection in the glass of the window to make sure his illusion was still in place. “I’ll only be gone for like, five minutes, max. Besides, everyone is at the fencing match, so it’s not like I’m going to run into anybody.”

Ezran hugged Bait to his chest as he looked up at Callum. “Can you at least take Rayla’s swords? What if someone from Katolis gets lost and wonders in the building? Then what’ll you do?”

Callum opened his mouth to argue, but he took one look at Ezran’s face before he sighed again. He didn’t want to worry the boy. “Okay, Ez. I’ll take her swords. If I can figure out how to carry them up along with the food…”

He looked over to the end of his bed, where Rayla’s swords rested, as if waiting for someone to use them. 

What he liked about her swords was that they didn’t look like weapons. They looked like tools; something that could be used for good or bad, depending on how you looked at it. And that was exactly how she used them.

He twisted the end of his ear before he could fall down the rabbit hole again. He was going to go get some food for Ezran, not think about… _ her. _ His thoughts were under  _ his  _ control, weren’t they? He could at least control  _ that. _

Callum scooped the swords from off the bed and awkwardly clutched them in his hands, the weight unfamiliar and clunky. He tried his best to shoot Ezran a reassuring look, but it probably didn’t turn out that way, especially with the clumsy way he attempted to open the door. He managed it after a moment of fumbling around and accidentally closing the door on his fingers, and stepped into the hallway. He wasn’t able to catch the door before it closed, however, and it slammed shut with a loud  _ thud! _

He winced and looked around the hallway, irrationally afraid that someone would hear it and come investigating. But everyone was at the fencing match, so there was nothing to worry about, right? Still, he couldn’t help but tiptoe his way down the hallway and the stairs to the small kitchenette area on the first floor. He didn’t run into anyone, but he could still hear his heartbeat in his ears every time a floorboard so much as squeaked.

Maybe Ezran had been right. Maybe he should have just stayed back in the dorm. But the way his stomach growled reminded him that Ezran would be just as hungry; he was a growing boy, after all. Callum would risk much more than just discovery to take care of his little brother.

In truth, the small kitchen area wasn’t anything special. It didn’t even have an oven or a stove, just a large pantry and a small marble counter. Callum brushed past it all, making a beeline straight for the pantry as he laid the swords on the counter so he wouldn’t have to deal with the clumsiness he’d exhibited before.

He was surprised there was so much food waiting for him inside. He knew that university kids were ravenous, at least in Katolis, and since elves weren’t really that different from humans, he figured that the pantry would be close to empty. Instead, it was nearly filled to the brim with all sorts of food supplies, from the makings for simple sandwiches to small containers of jelly tarts.

Callum chuckled as he grabbed three of the jelly tart containers.

“You’re telling me,” he muttered to himself, “that I could have been feeding Ezran’s addiction from here instead of smuggling in jelly tarts from the dining hall this whole time?”

He sighed and grabbed a few more containers of food before turning back to the counter, where Rayla’s swords awaited, and grimacing. He didn’t have enough hands.

He frowned to himself, a small spark of an idea in his head. How was it that Rayla managed to carry those things on her back, under her clothes, the whole time? She had to have some sort of harness on, which meant that the swords would likely have some sort of hook on them…

It took some doing, but after he set down the food on the counter, he managed to figure out a way to clip her swords to his belt, one on his left side and the other on his right. He grinned to himself, though it felt a little silly to figure out something so simple. 

 He had to go up the stairs much more slowly than before, lest he accidentally drop the containers of food down the steps. He wanted to get back to his room as quick as possible, just in case someone had forgotten something and reported his absence to the―

Voices.

Callum stopped in his tracks, too surprised to do much of anything for a moment. His dorm room was at the very end of the hall, and there were two people standing outside it, arguing in hushed voices that he couldn’t quite make out.

He gulped. Maybe they were just a few students who had gotten lost when they came back for something? If that was the case, he could probably use the same excuse, or say that he was just picking up some snacks for his friends at the fencing match. Yes, that would work. All he had to do was get them away from the door.

Callum plastered on a smile and did his best to walk confidently toward them, but as soon as he was within earshot, he soon found his feet stuttering to a stop once again.

“…just hurry up and open the door, Alan!”

“Don’t pester me! It’s a lot harder to pick a lock when you have someone nagging at you!”

“It doesn’t  _ look _ that hard. Maybe you’re just not trying.”

“Do  _ you _ want to give it a try, Zeno? No? I didn’t think so.”

Callum’s heart dropped into his stomach. These were  _ not  _ students.

The one standing with his back against the wall―Zeno?―was a tall Sunfire elf, with swirly golden face markings and black hair that seemed to stick straight up. He held a large war axe in one hand, made of fearsome golden metal that seemed to glow with a strange inner light, despite the fact that it didn’t seem to be any sort of Sunforge blade.

The one kneeling on the floor trying to pick the lock of the door had to be Alan, then. He was a Moonshadow elf with long white hair braided down his back, and he had two small daggers at his waist, both of which look terribly sharp. Neither of the two elves were college age, perhaps in their early thirties or late twenties.

And they were trying to break into Callum’s dorm room.

Callum’s dorm room…where  _ Ezran was waiting. _

Callum barely had a moment to think. He didn’t care why these two elves were there; he didn’t care who had sent them. All he cared about was protecting his little brother, at any cost.

So he dropped the containers of food to the ground, grabbed a single jelly tart, and tossed it at the Sunfire’s elf face.

It soared through the air in a perfect arc, smashing against Zeno’s face with a loud  _ splat! _ and splattering jelly everywhere.

For a juddered heartbeat, Zeno and Alan froze, staring at the jelly tart that fell to the ground dumbly. Then, at the same time, their gazes slid down the hallway and landed on Callum, waiting for them with shaky legs.

Alan stood and drew his daggers. “There’s the one.”

Zeno straightened and wiped the jelly tart off his face with his free hand. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Callum muttered the most vulgar curse he knew and started to run.

But Alan was there in an instant, somehow managing to cross the hallway in the blink of an eye and cut him off at the stairs, raising his daggers with a sinister smile. Callum scrambled backwards, but ending up falling on his back and had to settle for scrambling away backwards on all fours. It was not a moment too soon, for one of the Moonshadow elf’s daggers slammed into the floor where his foot had been just a second previous…it didn’t come from Alan?

Callum scrambled to his feet and risked looking over his shoulder, only to see a second version of the Moonshadow elf standing at the end of the hallway, the second dagger in his hand ready to throw. The one by the stairs was an illusion! But it was the middle of the day! How…?

Callum didn’t have time to think on it as Zeno advanced on him, brandishing his fearsome war axe and swinging it for Callum’s head. Callum dove toward the floor, but felt a stinging pain slice across the top of his forehead as the weapon grazed him. Clumsily, he crawled away until he managed to stumble to his feet.

Great. Now Zeno was blocking the stairs and Alan was blocking the other end of the hallway, standing in front of the door to his room. Callum was pinned.

He blinked blood out of his eyes, trying to think of a way out of the building. If he could just get a breeze of fresh air, even for a moment, he could use his sky magic. That would at least give him a fighting chance. But with the two elves surrounding him, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go  _ anywhere. _

“H-how are you casting illusions?” he stammered out, hoping that the Moonshadow elf would be susceptible to chit-chat. Callum edged toward him as the Sunfire elf took a few steps forward.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Alan replied with a sneer. From a small pouch at his waist that Callum hadn’t seen before, he withdrew a small, glowing silver orb.

Even from far away, he could feel the energy radiating from it. It seemed to be the opposite of the sun primal stone, which he had grown quite used to in recent weeks. Inside, silver light danced around, forming different shapes and images that vanished as soon as he started to recognize them.

Callum gaped at it. Where…where had thugs like these gotten a moon primal stone? He hadn’t even heard of one of those being discovered recently! He would have heard about it in Lujanne’s classes! 

“Aaravos was very generous in gifting it to me,” Alan said with a wink. “Just for the sole purpose of taking you out.”

Callum gulped as both of the elves took several steps forward. It was hard to think with his forehead pulsing in pain like it was, but his eyes managed to catch sight of another room, right behind Alan.

Room 313.

Callum could have leapt for joy. If he could make it to that room, he could lead Aaravos’s two goons to the roof, where he would have a much easier time dealing with them. But he had to think quickly, because Zeno had an angry glint in his eye and Alan looked just a little too eager to get this all over with.

Fumbling, fingers numb with panic, Callum reached for the swords hooked into his belt and clumsily flicked them open the way Rayla had taught him. He got it on the second try, and held them up to his left and right in a foolish attempt to protect himself.

Zeno and Alan both paused for a moment when they saw the swords, but then started laughing. 

“You planning on using those toothpicks, boy?” Zeno asked in his gravelly voice. He cocked an eyebrow. “Your hands are shaking.”

Callum said nothing. Their taunts, demeaning though they were, were only buying him more time to try and think his way out of this. He had a plan; he just needed to figure out how to get there.

More blood in his eye. The cut on his forehead throbbed with every lightning-fast thought that passed through his brain. If he didn’t find a way to get past Alan and to the roof, he was toast. Ezran…Rayla…he’d never see them again.

A flash of silver light to his left blinded him for a moment, and Callum yelped and swiped out instinctively with the swords in his hands. He hit nothing but air, but Zeno and Alan both chuckled again.

“What’s the matter, boy?” Alan asked, lifting his dagger in one hand and the moon primal stone in the other. “Scared of a little moonlight?”

Callum was very much afraid of a little moonlight, but he was not going to let the thug know that. Instead, his eyes frantically searched for another way out as his would-be assassins took even more steps forward, bringing them dangerously close.

Then, miraculously, Callum’s eye landed on Alan’s knees. Alan’s knees…which were far too close together for someone who had just cast a spell. In his anxiousness to get to Callum, he had neglected to stand properly…which created the perfect opportunity for Callum.

_ Oh, Rayla, you’re amazing, _ Callum thought as he grinned to himself.

He moved first, before either of them could pounce on him, powered by desperation and a half-baked plan. He lunged for Alan and somehow managed to turn the sword in his left hand so that the broad side of it slammed into the side of his knee.

_ THUD!  _ Alan’s face transformed from one of smugness to utter surprise as he collapsed to the ground. Callum felt triumph resound in his chest as he managed to regain his balance and jumped over Alan’s temporarily collapsed body. Callum ran as fast as he could for the room at the end of the hallway, doing his best to ignore Alan and Zeno’s shouts of rage.

Clumsily, shakily, Callum laid his hand on the doorknob before he realized that it was locked. But he didn’t have time for a key, so he took the butt of one of Rayla’s swords and slammed it down as hard as he could on the metal knob the second he reached the door. It broke with a loud  _ snap! _ and he practically threw the door off its hinges as he lurched inside the room, moving so fast that he felt the wooden ladder that led up to the roof crack a little with the momentum he slammed into it with. By the time Alan and Zeno were in the doorway, Callum was already climbing up to the roof, gasping for breath and blessing the cold air that filled his lungs. He felt a hand brush against his boot, but he kicked as hard as he could and used the momentum to finish pulling himself up.

He rolled onto the snowy surface of the roof clumsily, and immediately slipped and scrambled to his feet, holding up Rayla’s swords in a poor defensive position. Then he realized how stupid he was being and dropped the swords to the ground raising his hands instead.

Zeno was the first on the roof, and he looked absolutely  _ livid. _ No doubt this was supposed to be a simple job, but now Callum had managed to outrun him and his nose was bleeding from where Callum’s foot had collided with his face.

“You,” Zeno growled, lifting his war axe, “are going to pay for that, you scrawny little―”

But he never got to finish his sentence, for Callum was now powered by both panic and the power of his arcanum, and he had taken a deep breath.

His finger traced the rune almost without his knowledge, and then the words were dropping out of his mouth.  _ “Aspiro-Frigis!” _

And this time, when he blew as hard as he could on the rune, a whirlwind of ice burst forth, hurtling for the Sunfire elf before he had a chance to react. Right as Zeno took a step, the frigid spell hit his body, spreading over him like some sort of strange, icy outer layer. Within a second, Zeno was almost completely encased in ice, only his head sticking out, though his mouth was thankfully covered so he could no longer speak.

Callum ran out of breath, nearly falling over as he rested his hands on his knees to steady himself. Well, that was one potential assassin of his eliminated. So where was―?

_ Schlock!  _ Another biting pain, this time in his arm. Callum jerked away, stumbling over his own two feet as he clutched at his arm, which was now bleeding profusely. Again, the weapon, a thrown dagger, had only scraped past him, but this one had cut deeper than his previous wound. The two throbbed in tandem, making his head cloudy.

He looked up in time to see Alan stepping out from behind his debilitated comrade, hands raised almost in a  _ what-can-you-do _ gesture.

“Now―Callum, is it? This doesn’t have to end badly. All you have to do is…let me push you off the roof! Then we can all go back to normal.”

“N-no thanks!” Callum replied, his statement somewhat undermined by his embarrassing voice crack.

Alan rolled his eyes. “Fine, I guess we’ll do this the hard way.”

Callum gulped. “Yeah, well…you’re out of knives!” 

The Moonshadow elf grinned savagely at him and opened his coat to reveal rows and  _ rows _ of knives, ranging from the size of his arm to his thumb. “Oh, am I?”

_ Callum, you idiot. Learn to think before you speak. _

His fingers were shaking violently, but Callum sketched another rune in the air, this time one that was a bit more complicated. As soon as it was finished, thunder boomed and lightning crackled, forming a ball of pure energy in his hand that created a powerful shield of energy around him.

Immediately, Alan’s eyes widened and he took a step back. Clearly, he had underestimated his target.

His mistake.

“What’s the matter?” Callum asked, lifting his hand, which sparked dangerously with electricity. “Scared of a little lightning?”

The elf’s eyes narrowed at him. Callum took a step back as Alan took one forward, trying his best not to slip on the snow under his feet. A fall from this height would be disastrous.

“So,” Alan said, taking two long knives from the inside of his jacket. “A human…connected to the sky arcanum. Now  _ that  _ is interesting.”

Callum froze. Alan knew he was a human. How? Had he told anyone else?

Alan’s grin returned full-force. “Oh, yes. Aaravos told me all about you. You―” He took another step forward, and Callum took one back, still holding the  _ fulminis  _ spell in his hand. “―are a human who’s wanted for crimes he did not commit in Katolis. You’ve disguised yourself as an elf and have been attempting to learn the ways of the sun primal. Not very useful, considering that Zeno here can’t even free himself from this ice. He’s more of a weapons guy, you see.”

Alan tapped the side of Zeno’s ice prison with the side of his knife, and Zeno’s golden eyes flicked over to glare at the thug. Alan simply chuckled and took another menacing step forward. Callum took several steps backward, tired of being cornered, but he found that he had reached the end of the roof. 

He didn’t want to use the fulminis spell on Alan. He’d only ever used it once, and it had blasted a whole in a wall. Who knew what it would do to a person? Callum was many things, but he was not a killer, and he never wanted to be. Besides, if Alan and Zeno knew about Aaravos, they could be used as evidence against him. If they didn’t expose Callum at the same time.

“Oh!” Alan added, as if he had forgotten something. “I  _ also  _ know about you…and your friends. Who is it who’s been helping you with the sun primal? GIlavor? A halfling. Oh, and the girl…Rayla?” Another threatening grin, another step forward. Callum lifted his hand, but the elf had to have known it was just a bluff. “I hear she’s a tough one. It will be a pleasure to watch her gutted.”

Callum froze. “What are you talking about?”

Alan ignored him. “And you have a  _ brother. _ Ezran, son of the late President Harrow of Katolis University. Maybe when I’m done with you, I’ll go back down to room 311 and finish him off t―”

_ “Fulminis!” _

Lightning exploded from Callum’s hand, arcing for Alan’s heart.  _ No one _ would harm Ezran. Callum would do  _ anything  _ to make sure that didn’t happen.

But Alan had ducked before the lightning even left Callum’s palm, diving into a roll, knives aimed for Callum’s gut. Callum was completely unprepared for it, and for a moment, he thought he could imagine his lifeless body falling off the side of the roof.

He wished he could say it was instinct or foresight that saved him. In truth, he was so panicked that he attempted to jerk backward while at the same time remembering that he was at the edge of the roof, so the result was a clumsy shuffle of his feet―which of course resulted in him slipping sideways, falling hard on his already injured arm.

Pain pulsed through his brain and his shoulder as snow filled his mouth, and Callum choked on it as he watched Alan’s face contort in surprise again as his knives struck air…and as he tripped over Callum’s sprawled legs and went over the edge of the roof.

But not before he grabbed Callum’s leg and brought him down too.

He barely had a moment to process it all. One moment he was lying on the edge of the roof, coughing snow out of his mouth, and the next his stomach was climbing into his throat and wind was roaring in his ears and he was screaming as he fell to his death.

Beside him, Alan reached for another dagger from his coat, and Callum’s first, jumbled thought was,  _ Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. _ But the knife he withdrew was not a knife―it was one of Rayla’s swords!

It was hard to see with the tears pricking at his eyes, but Alan did seem to have an extra weight hanging from from his belt. And the weapon in his hand was much longer and sturdier than the daggers he had been using, which was a good thing, considering that he had just driven the blade into the brick wall of the dormitory.

“How do you like the wind  _ now, _ boy?” Alan called after Callum as the sword dragged down the wall and slowed him to a stop next to a window.

Right. Wind. Callum was still falling to his death. Somehow that detail had escaped him for just a moment.

Wait.

Wind.

_ Wind! _

Callum’s eyes widened as the ground loomed ever closer: everything that had just happened had happened in the span of a few seconds. He only had a single moment to enact this spell.

It was hard to trace a symbol in the air in front of him because of the air pushing at him, but he put all of his energy into drawing the swirling shapes as perfectly as he could, the symbol locked on the end of his finger. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and―

_ “Aspiro!” _

And then he  _ blew. _ He blew as hard as he could with every ounce of breath that he had, aimed straight for the ground. Calum winced even as he continued to exhale, expecting an impact with the ground at any second.

But nothing happened.

After a moment, he gained the courage to open his eyes, only to be staring at a rather large rock not an inch from his forehead. A miniscule whirlwind from his mouth just barely kept him afloat.

And, of course, as soon as he thought that, he ran out of air to his lungs and his face slammed into the dirt.

Callum groaned and rolled over, spitting snow and mud out of his mouth. His head was throbbing even more now, making it hard to do much of anything except stare up at the sky for a minute or two. He felt almost disconnected from his body; the mixtures of leftover adrenaline and terror were doing a real number on his body and his mind. So he just laid there, and he  _ breathed _ .

But eventually he heard a sound―like the scraping of metal on stone. Callum forced himself to sit up, blinking away some of the haze that had settled on his brain. He looked around, hand held to his forehead as if it could alleviate some of the pain on the inside of his skull. But the answer he was looking for was a little higher up.

Alan was still holding onto Rayla’s sword, which was buried in the side of the dorm building. But something was wrong; the silver blade was coming loose from the brick it was buried into; either the sword had been buried too deep into the wall and had started to dig out the brick near it, or it hadn’t been shoved far enough into the wall. Either way, it was coming loose, and Callum found himself watching numbly as Alan, two stories away from the ground, began to flail helplessly.

Well…maybe not helplessly. He was attempting to use a little momentum to swing himself over to the nearest window, but it was too far―even Callum could tell that. Then Alan withdrew the other sword he had stolen and attempted to flick it open, presumably to try and save himself by burying that one into the wall as well.

But Rayla’s swords were not his, and they rejected his flagrant use of them.

_ Shink! _ The sword came loose from the brick wall with a metallic scraping sound, freeing itself from the wall, along with a healthy scraping of stone. Alan, of course, plummeted to the ground.

Callum closed his eyes just in time, but he couldn’t block out the sickening  _ crunch _ sound that filled his ears, or the blood-curdling scream that came after. The sounds bounced around on the inside of his head, and he found that he couldn’t focus or do much of anything for another moment―not until the screaming stopped.

Then he opened his eyes, only to spot Alan with his back against the wall with his leg bent at a nauseating angle, blood dripping down his calf. But he appeared to be breathing, which was good, because Callum didn’t think he could live with the guilt if the assassin had died, even if he head tried to kill him just moments before.

Callum held his breath and laboriously climbed to his feet, nearly losing his balance and falling back to the dirt as the world spun around him. He stumbled over to Alan, noting how Rayla’s swords had landed away from the thug, completely rejecting him. Callum couldn’t help but smile as he retrieved them. Even when she wasn’t around, Rayla’s swords maintained her personality.

Alan suddenly spat at him, making Callum jump somewhat clumsily away, for he had been sure that the Moonshadow elf had passed out. But he was still awake, if only just.

“Filthy human,” he snarled at Callum. “I knew we should have come in the night to put a knife in you.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t,” Callum replied, then immediately winced. Talking made his head hurt.

Callum thought he was done with Alan, or at least that the goon had passed out, but that wasn’t the case. The next words he spoke were chilling, and they only froze Callum for a moment before he scrambled away, heart beating out of his chest as he looked toward Sylva Field, where the human tents were set up―and where Rayla was bound to be. Alan’s sneered words wouldn’t stop ringing through his head like a funeral bell.

_ “She won’t live past sunset.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, we’re not going to talk about how long it takes someone to fall off a building. Don’t worry about it. Also, I kind of regret not giving Rayla’s POV this chapter? But the next chapter will be a continuation of this one and will have plenty of her, don’t worry.  
> I am trying very hard not to screech about season three coming out. V e r y. H a r d.  
> (another big thanks to skymagemar for betaing!)


	17. The Fencing Match (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He couldn't lose her, and especially not like this."

Rayla was blushing profusely as she hurried away from the dorm and toward Sylva Field. Oh, how she wished she’d never become aware of her feelings! She would only be confused when she thought of what had just happened, instead of becoming a blushing, flustered mess every time she thought of his warm cheek against her lips, or how she’d wanted to kiss him for real because  _ he was Callum _ and he was being so kind and thoughtful, and―

She slapped herself on the arm,  _ hard, _ and rubbed her warm face in an attempt to clear her mind. She had to focus on the task at hand―making sure she did well in this match. Even with everything that had been going on for the past two months of her life, she knew how important the match was. It was just another way that the humans and elves waged war on each other without losing tens of thousands of lives in the process. There was a lot of pressure on all of the elven fencers to do well in this tournament―the coach would  _ not  _ be too happy with Rayla’s absence before the start of the matches.  _ But _ , she thought as her hands trailed to the scarf tied around her arm,  _ it was worth it. _

She couldn’t help the smile her mouth spread into as she touched the scarf. She’d tied it around her left arm for two reasons―the first was because she had no idea to effectively wrap a scarf around her neck in a way that wouldn’t hinder her while she fought. The second was that Callum―adorable and loveable though he was―hadn’t thought about the repercussions of an elf showing up to fence wearing a scarf from the opposite team. Tying it around her arm with the edges tucked in so it sort of resembled an arm band allowed her to hang on to his…“favor” while also not exposing him or causing any controversy. Making a slip now would be disastrous―humans and elves alike would storm the dormitory trying to find him if someone were to discover the truth now.

The thought sent a spike of anxiety through her, but she forced herself to take a breath. Like Callum had said―he could always open a window in case of an attack, and…and he had her swords.

And now she had  _ another _ thing to worry about. Callum didn’t know what it meant to share weapons in Moonshadow elf culture. To be fair, many younger Moonshadow elves didn’t know either, for many of the older traditions had died out when the war did. But Runaan had always been a stickler for tradition―which meant Rayla had known  _ exactly _ what it meant when she’d given him her swords.

As much as she didn’t want it to, her brain focused in on that detail and made all of her blood rush to her face. At the time, she’d told herself that it was solely to protect him―even if he didn’t use the swords as weapons, he could at least use them to break a window open if he needed to. But in her heart, Rayla knew that his protection wasn’t the only reason she’d given him her swords.

For Moonshadow elves, at least in the olden days, sharing weapons was the ultimate act of trust. If you gave someone your weapon to share of your own free will, it showed that you were giving them a piece of yourself. Stealing someone’s weapons, conversely, was a huge act of malice and untrustworthiness. But sharing weapons was an extremely intimate act, and Rayla had to scoop snow off the ground and rub it on her face to cool off as she thought about it.

Thankfully, a distraction soon came to help take her mind off things―a distraction in the form of the newly transformed Sylva Field.

Despite the fact that Rayla was an elf and had grown up around all kinds of magic, she still found herself amazed by the sight of the playing field. While she had grown used to seeing the natural elements of Xadia working together with the different primal sources naturally, it was quite different to see it done intentionally.

The entire playing field was encased in a giant dome of blue sky magic―the  _ oculus tempestas  _ spell, as Rayla had learned, though there had to be dozens of Skywing elves powering it in order to keep any falling snow off the ground over such a large area. At each corner of the field, giant torches burned, pulsing with fire-orange sun magic that spread across the field every few moments, bringing the temperature up from freezing to that of an average summer day. Even from far away, she could see the Earthblood elves preparing themselves to cast protection spell over the fencers who sat on either side of the field, according to their respective sides. Magic was involved in all facets of the fencing tournament, and it was rather amazing to witness. Callum would have loved to see it. So would Ezran, now that she thought about it.

Rayla swallowed her apprehension as she spotted several humans milling about around the playing field. The bleachers had been magically enlarged for the sake of the game, and were filled to the brim―humans on one side of the field, and elves on another. The same was true for the tents; though there were significantly more human tents than elven, for the elves only needed a few for medical purposes and for storage.

None of the humans looked threatening, per se, but she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. She knew that not all humans were bad―Callum and Ezran were the perfect examples―but she also knew that many of them had been fed misinformation about the other races of the continent, and vice versa. Once, she’d heard a story about how humans stored their leftover dark magic in their extra fingers! Clearly, it was untrue, unless Callum had somehow managed to conceal it from her, which she doubted, considering that he was a terrible liar.

As she stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass path that led to Sylva Field, she was able to see things a little more clearly. She could see the glares that elves and humans were giving each other―not of anger, but of suspicion. None of them trusted each other. Had one hundred years of peace really done so little for human-elf relations?

_ Maybe that will change one day, _ Rayla thought, thinking about how easily she and Callum got along, and how simple Callum’s friendships were with the other elves. If everyone were blindfolded, everything would be so much easier.

“Rayla!” a voice exclaimed. She turned to find Coach Almon glaring at her, his white wings fluffing out as he marched over to her. “Where have you been? The matches start in ten minutes!”

He was a tall Skywing elf, and he was broad-shouldered as well, though most of the time his personality was passive―unless, of course, his coaching methods called for something a bit more energetic. His hair was the same shade of white as the feathers coating his wings, Rayla had never quite figured out if his hair was  _ actual  _ hair or just a collection of feathers on the top of his head. He was wearing flamboyant robes, matching the colors of the university. He looked a bit ridiculous, considering that the college had six colors, one for each primal source and the elves that were connected to it: silver for the moon, gold for the sun, gray for the sky, blue for the ocean, green for the earth, and purple for the stars.

“I forgot my best boots in my dorm room,” she lied smoothly. Fencers knew the importance of shoes with good traction. She lifted up a foot to show him and watched his eyes soften.

“I…oh, fine. Just…get to your first square! We have a lot riding on all of you.” Almon scratched behind his ear. “And…good luck, Rayla.”

“Thanks, coach.”

**< |>**

Gilavor watched Rayla cross the field from his position in the bleachers. He kept his breathing even, his posture relaxed as several elves wandered around near him. In his chest, he felt his heart burn with anger.

But his horns also pulsed with pain, left over from the spell that Aaravos had used to control him. A misstep now would mean everything was ruined; a misstep now would mean excruciating pain for him.

So Gilavor watched.

And Gilavor waited.

**< |>**

Rayla waited in front of the field with the elven fencers, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet. In her hands, she held a pair of falcata swords forged by the university’s resident Sunfire elf blacksmith. Falcata swords were the most similar to the pair she owned that had been made by Runaan’s partner, with a curve toward the middle that allowed for the momentum to help carry the blade. 

She…knew a little too much about swords. She supposed that was a side effect of being raised to be an assassin.

On the other side of Sylva Field, she could clearly see the human fencers. They were wearing leather cuirasses emblazoned with the symbol of Katolis, and their longswords glittered in the blue light of the dome above. They wore simple leather helmets too, which seemed like a bit of overkill to Rayla, considering that in the matches a helmet would do little to protect you―that’s what the Earthblood elves and their magic were for.

There were five very simple rules to follow in a fencing match. The first was that each fencer had to be protected at all times by a magic barrier that the Earthblood elves would provide. The spell was complicated and needed at least four elves to power it, forming an incredibly flexible shield around each fighter that would dull each blow so that it was more like being struck with a piece of wood. This rule, from what Rayla had been told, was the most important, and a match would be immediately stopped if the rule was violated.

The second rule was why the first rule was needed, and was how points were scored. An injuring blow was one point, but it required two points to win a match. A blow that would be fatal under normal circumstances―that was two points, and in most cases would instantly win the match.

But the third rule was where things got interesting. After each match, the terrain would get harder and obstacles would be added to the area where fencers fought, and the points needed to win a match increased as well. A blow that would have been killing was still an instant win, but the referees would be more picky about what was deemed a killing blow. The final round would be the most challenging, and no one except the referees and the Earthblood elves―who also used their magic to shape the terrain of each match―knew what it would be.

The fourth and fifth rules were fairly simple. No one could use magic during a match, so that things would be as even as possible, which she supposed was doubly important for the human fencers. They couldn’t use dark magic during a match, but they also didn’t have to worry about their elven opponents getting the upper hand on them. And the fifth rule was simple, but of equal importance to all the rest: fight with honor. Warrior’s honor was a big sticking point for both elves and humans, and dirty tricks―such as breaking or dislocating limbs―wouldn’t be tolerated.

Rayla sighed and adjusted her sweaty grip on the falcatas in her hands. She’d grown used to them in recent months, but she still preferred her own swords over these ones. The weight was just…different. And these were…well, they were  _ swords, _ not tools. These were intended to hurt people. Granted, they were intended to hurt people who had magical protection, but it just…wasn’t the same as having her own swords with her.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Headmaster Pharon stepped onto the playing field, walking into the center, right between the human side and the elven side. He too was wearing the ceremonial robes of the college, and it made him look larger than he was. His small brown wings fluttered almost nervously behind him as he lifted his voice to address the crowd.

“We are all gathered here today in the spirit of friendly competition,” he called out, his voice somehow carrying across the entire field. “One-hundred years ago, Xadia and the humans decided to end the conflict between our two lands, and brought around an era of peace! Today, we gather for a small tournament to celebrate that peace.”

It seemed ironic to Rayla. Celebrating peace by hosting a display of swordsmanship. On the one hand, it could build respect for the other side if they fought valiantly enough, but it could also be seen as a sort of threat. Everything at this fencing tournament had to go exactly to plan, or tensions could rise once again: Callum had to stay hidden, the fencers had to play fair and be civil, and the humans and elves in the stands had to get along as well. There was a lot riding on the success of this tournament.

“But before we begin,” Pharon continued, still holding the attention of everyone at Sylva Field, “I ask that we have a moment of silence for the event that ended the war so long ago; the Massacre of Elarion.”

Instantly,  _ everyone  _ sucked in a breath, making it audible all around. Even Rayla, who had never really been a history buff, knew about the Massacre of Elarion. No one ever talked about it anymore, because it was a massive taboo and a sign of bad luck, despite the fact that it had ended a war that had lasted generations. Besides, everyone knew about it anyway, so there was really no point.

The Massacre of Elarion was the bloodiest event in the history of the war between elves and humans. No one really knew who ordered the attack on the small town one-hundred years previous―whether it was elves or humans. Both sides had equal reason to attack the town, for it was full of elves and humans living together in peace, far away from the war. It was also near the border, which again made it a prime target for both sides of the war. Regardless of who had ordered it, the result was a bloody battle that ended in the deaths of tens of thousands of elves and humans alike…many of which were civilians; men, women, and children who’d had no desire to fight.

Rayla shuddered just thinking about it. How awful would it be, to have all of your hopes and dreams ripped away simply because you lived in peace and were in a “valuable location?” How terrible it must have been to have your loved ones ripped away from you in the blink of an eye to further the goal of war. Clearly, the elves and humans agreed on that, for it was not two months after the massacre that a tentative peace treaty had been signed by both sides, to be improved upon later. The massacre was also known as the “World’s Darkest Day” by some. Dramatic, but appropriate.

The whole field was quiet for a long moment as Pharon lowered his head in reverence, and for an eerie minute, the only sound was the whistling of the wind and the crackling of the fire that kept them warm. But then the moment passed as the headmaster lifted his head again, the the field erupted into quiet murmurs―no doubt people were wondering why Pharon would dare mentioning Elarion when no one had mentioned it at a public event in years. And at an event where the best of luck was needed? Rayla was sure that Zell, superstitious as she was, was flipping out somewhere as her brother rolled his eyes nearby.

“Now,” Pharon continued, rubbing his hands together in a way that was almost nervous, “I would like to welcome the president of Katolis University, who has respectfully requested to say a few words.”

Rayla froze.

_ The President of Katolis University. _

No sooner had the realization entered her brain did a man step onto the field from the human side. He was a tall man, with graying hair and a goatee that he seemed to have far too much time on. He wore expensive-looking gold and black robes and leather boots stitched from the finest leather, and he walked with a cane that seemed far too engraved and decorated for her taste. As he limped toward Pharon, he somehow managed to  _ ooze _ arrogant energy that would have been enough for Rayla to hate him if she hadn’t already known the extent of his crimes.

This was the man who had taken Callum’s father from him, and had framed Callum for murder as well. This was the man who had taken away the future of the boy she loved, and she  _ hated _ him for it. She  _ longed  _ to step out of line and drive her borrowed swords somewhere permanent in Viren’s body, to make him experience some of the pain that he had inflicted on Callum without a second thought, to make him  _ pay. _

In her head, she knew that doing any of that would only do more harm than good. Attacking the  _ president _ of a  _ human  _ college would ignite war; it would expose Callum and ruin everything. But she couldn’t help but take half a step forward. She couldn’t help but tighten her grip on her swords. She couldn’t help but wish Viren  _ would drop dead _ , even as his dark-eyed gaze passed over the fencers and he came to a stop next to Headmaster Pharon.

“Thank you for having me,” Viren boomed, his voice scathingly snide and dripping with self-importance. “I am honored to stand among you, especially after the…unfortunate circumstances that have taken place back home.”

Rayla itched to push him off a very tall cliff and watch him splat against the ground. She settled for gripping her swords so tightly she could feel the skin on her knuckles stretch painfully.

“But we have overcome the tragedies of the past, both recent and those in times long ago. We have come to this fencing tournament today to prove that this peace can last!” Viren bowed low to the elven side of the field, though Rayla saw that his eyes remained on Pharon, almost in a glare. “Hopefully this event will go smoothly as a testament to that.”

Wow. Thinly veiled threats must have been a partner-in-crime thing, because both Aaravos and Viren were very obvious in their use of them.

The bleachers broke into scattered applause, and some of the other fencers joined in. Rayla did not. Instead, she glared at Viren, hoping her angry gaze would bore holes into the side of his head.

Oh, if only. That would make things so much easier.

**< |>**

In all honesty, she didn’t remember much of her first fencing match. Or her second, for that matter. Rayla had been so angry at Viren and the situation as a whole when stepping into her first ring that she barely even remembered her first opponent’s face, let alone the fight that came when the nearby referee rang the bell.

She did, remember, being fascinated by the Earthblood elves and their magic. Each fencer was assigned to four Earthblood elves, who would perform a protection spell over them. She’d never seen one of their protection spells in action, but she’d heard about how effective it was. During the war, important generals and leaders would have several Earthblood elves perform the spell over them, which made that person virtually invincible in battle unless they were…“overcome by a superior force,” as her history professor had put it.

The coaches and referees had lined up the fencers on each side of the field according to their respective races, and each fencer had been assigned about four Earthblood elves to perform the necessary spell. 

The Earthblood elves themselves were dressed in their own ceremonial robes, their antlers decorated with small golden pieces of jewelery to amplify the effect. It was yet another way for the elves to boast, for she knew that the Earthblood elves didn’t dress as fancily for the normal tournaments. She’d watched a few matches before she’d become a student at the university.

Rayla found herself nervously fiddling with the ends of her hair as she waited for the Earthblood elves to cast the spell over her, talking quietly amongst themselves, presumably to make sure that they were all in sync. Casting spells with more than one user was dangerous; if one of the spell casters did something wrong, the whole spell had the potential to backfire. That was why the university only selected incredibly experienced Earthblood elves to perform the spells for the fencers.

Really, the only person she’d ever cast spells on her was Callum, and those had all been healing spells with the help of the sun primal stone. While logically she knew that the Earthblood elves knew what they were doing, she couldn’t help but be a little wary. It was a miracle that Cressida and the others had been able to pull off that joint spell in the kitchens to hide them; something like that wasn’t likely to happen again while they were still learning.

At last, the elves were ready to cast their spell. Rayla straightened her posture as they approached her, trying her best not to show the extent of her nerves. She was more nervous about this part of the spell than anything else. What if something were to go wrong, and she was actually injured on accident?

“Stand still,” one of the Earthblood elves, who was taller than the others, told her. He shot her a friendly smile. “And relax. It won’t do you any good to go into a fencing match all tense, would it?”

Rayla returned the kind elf’s smile and did her best to relax the muscles in her shoulders. “You’re right. Thank you.”

The Earthblood elf nodded at her before turning to the other elves that had been assigned to help protect her. In unison, they lifted up their fingers and began to trace the designated symbol in the air. While she was far from a mage, and certainly not one connected to the earth arcanum, she thought the symbol sort of resembled a shield, with the veins of a leaf inside. It certainly seemed to be a complicated symbol, yet each mage traced it perfectly and held it in front of her.

_ “Cutis petra tutamen,”  _ four voices declared simultaneously.

The symbols began to glow green, and Rayla immediately felt her skin begin to tingle. When the light of the spell faded, she found that her skin was covered in the barest hint of that same light. When she felt her arm, she discovered that she could feel a cool, silky surface there, like a second set of skin. This must have been how Callum felt when he used that fire protection spell on himself. All things considered, it was actually fairly interesting. Perhaps once the tournament was over, she could ask Ezran about it, since he was still reading those books that she had gotten him.

She thanked the Earthblood elves who had performed the spell over her and rushed off to her first match when she heard the loud gong ring, signaling that the matches would be starting soon.

She was a little ashamed to admit that she remembered more about the terrain and the small squares that had been set up for the matches than anything else. The first one had been relatively simple: just a square about four yards wide on simple grass and solid dirt. In essence, the playing field really hadn’t been changed that much. Her first match had been a fairly easy one: her opponent clearly wasn’t used to fighting elves, and had been blind to about half of her maneuvers until she managed to score two gut wounds in a row on him; two injuring blows, two points, a win for her.

The second match, of course, grew a bit more difficult, but it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to. The square had been widened by another yard, but the Earthblood elves had used their magic to turn the grass and the dirt into sand, as well as adding several other obstacles such as small rocks and boulders so that the footing wouldn’t be easy.

But Runaan had trained Rayla to fight in any situation, long before she had joined any sort of fencing team. Sand and rocks?  _ Please. _ That was a piece of cake. She’d gotten the hang of that when she was ten. Her opponent, on the other hand…not so much. She really couldn’t remember if the “killing blow” she had struck was from her sword or from the clumsy human tripping and falling on a particularly sharp-looking rock.

There were very small breaks in between matches, and they were filled with medics checking over each fencer to make sure that the protection spell was still functional and that the fencer hadn’t been injured too badly. Rayla found that she enjoyed the company of the Earthblood elves assigned to protect her; they were kind and humorous, and in some ways reminded her of Ezran.

She wondered briefly, in the space between matches, how Ezran and Callum were doing. Callum, at least, was probably bored out of his mind. Ezran would probably be too, but he was also used to sitting in the dorm room for long periods of time. It was a wonder that the young teenager had managed to stay in there all that time without going insane; Rayla knew she would last in the same room for a week at the most.

She hoped that they would be safe there. She could still see Viren in the highest part of the stands with the other administrators, right next to Pharon. But she had yet to see Aaravos, and she had no idea where he could be. Surely he wouldn’t be so bold as to go after Callum and his brother in the middle of the day?

“Thinking hard?” a voice asked her.

Rayla blinked and looked up. One of the Earthblood elves was staring kindly at her; his name was Conlis, and he was in his late thirties. He as an adjunct professor at the college, too, and taught a class about earth magic. He’d told her as much in their time between rounds.

“Um…I guess you could say that,” Rayla replied.

Conlis arched an eyebrow at her and nodded at the scarf tied to her wrist, which she hadn't realized she’d been holding onto while she thought. She hated the way her face immediately flushed.

“That must be from someone important if you’re holding it like that,” Conlis said with a smirk.

“No!” she denied in a squeaky voice. She cleared her throat. “I mean, uh…no. We’re just friends. He wanted to wish me good luck.”

Conlis’s smirk only deepened. “Sure, and that’s why I gave  _ my _ partner my scarf when she was your age and in these tournaments.” He winked. “Because I  _ definitely _ wanted to be  _ friends. _ ”

_ BA-DUMP. _

Her whole face was as red as a venenum plant, and the blush was only spreading down her neck at the implication of Conlis’s words. Surely Callum couldn’t…no, that was too much to hope for. Too much entirely. And besides, she had other things to focus on. Like winning her next match, for instance.

She shot Conlis a glare and turned to face her next opponent, forcing her mind to focus on the task at hand. It wasn’t easy, but it was also one of the many things Runaan had taught her. She could focus on this, and worry about her relationship with Callum later.

The human that she had been set up against for the third round was a rather tall human boy who was apparently called Cyrus. He had dark skin and an arrogant smile and a giant longsword that almost seemed too big for him. He shot her an offensive gesture that made her eyebrows furrow.

This round would be harder than the others, judging by the terrain of the square they’d been assigned. It was larger, and had more sand and boulders than the previous round. However, hills had been implemented in this one, along with a deep, wide ditch in the center that she knew would spell her defeat if she allowed her foot to get caught in it. Judging from the shoes on the sneering human fencer, he was no stranger to rough terrain either. Perhaps this fight would actually be challenging.

Rayla could almost feel the malice radiating from Cyrus as they waited for the referee to finish reciting the rules to them. As was custom before each match, they saluted each other from opposite sides of the field, but she could feel the glare this human was directing at her.

Just a few months ago, she might have returned that malice for the simple reason that it was unjustified, and that would have made her furious. But now…now she was just tired. She was rather sick of hearing how much elves hated humans, and sick of hearing how humans had wrong elves, and vice versa. Was it too much to ask for people to set aside their hatred for a single moment?

The referee lifted his hand into the air, and Rayla and Cyrus stepped onto the field at the same time. They were both on the right side of the ditch, but a semi-large dune of sand―one that reached up to at least Rayla’s waist―separated them. Cyrus’s glare still had not let up one bit.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered as the referee swung his hand down and blew a whistle.

Cyrus charged forward suddenly with a fierce yell, and Rayla rushed forward to meet him. The match had begun.

Then Rayla was in the thick of it, jumping with a flip over the dune of sand and thrusting her right sword toward Cyrus’s chest when she landed, only to have it blocked by his longsword. Cyrus slashed at Rayla from the left, and she dodged out of the way, flipping around the sword in her left hand so that it ran parallel to her forearm as she did.

Without warning, Cyrus dug his sword in the ground and flung sand at her, and she dodged to the side to avoid being blinded. She was just barely able to jump the ditch without spraining her ankle, recovering smoothly and spinning around to face Cyrus with her swords held in front of her in a ready position.

For a moment, she and her opponent circled each other on opposite sides of the small ditch, each looking for weaknesses in the other’s defense. All around the field, several battles raged with the clinking and hissing of metal, almost loud enough to drown out Rayla’s adrenaline-fueled heartbeat in her ears. 

Rayla’s eyes flicked to the referee, who was still waiting and watching outside the arena square. A second later, they returned to Cyrus, and that was all the invitation the human fencer needed.

Cyrus ran forward, jumping over the ditch, sword thrumming in from the side, aimed for Rayla’s neck. But that was exactly what Rayla was counting on.

She twirled out of the way right before Cyrus’s sword would have made contact and slammed her foot into the back of Cyrus’s unprotected knee as hard as she possibly could.

The boy cried out in pain as he fell to one leg, and Rayla spun, using her momentum to carry her the broad side of her swords―just in case something were to go wrong with his magical shield―into Cyrus’s neck, sending him sprawling across the ground, where he promptly hit his head hard on a rock.

For a moment, Rayla had an irrational fear that she’d somehow actually killed him, but the human rolled over onto his back a second later with a groan, clutching his head. Well, she’d only given him a concussion. She’d had worse; he’d live.

_ Really,  _ Rayla thought as the referee declared her the winner,  _ these human fencers need to step it up. _

**< |>**

Gilavor’s hands shook with anticipation as he strode to a spot behind the last elven tent, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one saw him. The third match had ended some time ago; the fourth and final match was about to win. As expected, Rayla had advanced to the final round, which meant that the final part of this particular plan was ready to be enacted.

When he was sure that no one else was around, Gilavor kneeled down next to a rather large rock and lifted it up with both hands. Underneath, a parcel wrapped in white cloth waited for him.

He made sure that the cloth was still well in place before he picked it up. He lifted up an edge of the towel to peer at the object in his hands, wincing in advance.

He’d never seen one before, but the object he was holding was known as a succo stone, and it was apparently incredibly rare. It looked unrefined, with a blood red gem that seemed to glow with an inward light sticking out of dark stone.

The moment he laid eyes on it, he began to feel nauseous and dizzy, like he’d forgotten to eat and then decided to run a marathon. Quickly, he covered the stone up with the cloth, and began to feel better. It was a good thing that Aaravos had used a magically enchanted cloth to cover it up, otherwise Gilavor would already be collapsed on the ground.

It was a short walk back to the main area of Sylva Field, especially with all the adrenaline in his veins. The gem he was carrying was banned by both the Pentarchy and Xadia, because it was incredibly dangerous. If he was caught with it, he’d be arrested and sentenced to death. But in all honesty, he was really more worried about accidentally suffering from its effects.

He managed to make it back before the final round started. The Earthblood elves had gathered together on either side of the field, which had been almost completely transformed for the final match, prepared to cast their protective spell one last time. They’d been given an hour or so to rest, and so had the fencers, and now everything was ready.

He did his best to blend in with the crowd milling about. Most people were in the bleachers, but there were a few people who were walking around, getting concessions and the like. It wasn’t terribly unusual for him to be lingering near the Earthblood elves. Most of the campus security was too busy focusing on the rowdy crowds and preventing brawls between humans and elves to notice one person standing a little too close to the edges of the field.

He had to get the timing just right. If he acted too soon, the Earthblood elves would be able to sense that something was amiss. Too late, and the succo stone wouldn’t have much effect. He had to do it just a few moments after the Earthblood cast their spell, or the whole plan would be ruined. That’s what Aaravos’s instructions had said, anyway. With any luck, no one would notice anything was amiss until it was too late.

Gilavor stepped back a few steps and turned so that only half of his face was visible as Rayla emerged from a nearby tent, wielding her swords and looking slightly refreshed. He couldn’t help the way his fists clenched when he saw her, and he had to remind himself that he was holding a dangerous magical object in one hand.

Gilavor only knew the name of the human who would face off against Rayla and ultimately be responsible for her death. Soren, or something similar. Gilavor found it hard not to be somewhat jealous, but he also knew that another swordsman logically stood a good chance of defeating her. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but reach a free hand up to his horns as they ached. He itched to send a fireball arcing for her when she least expected it, to end it all right then. Why did he even have to follow Aaravos’s convoluted plan if it wasn’t going to end in his personal revenge?

His horns ached sharply for a moment.  _ That _ was why. As long as Rayla paid for her crimes…

A loud gong rang, signaling that the start of the match was soon. Rayla stepped in front of the Earthblood elves, accepting the spell that they bestowed upon her with a nod and a smile toward them. The moment she turned around to step onto the field―newly retrofitted with all sorts of new obstacles―Gilavor casually strode forward, projecting the confidence one might have when they were authorized to be somewhere, and dropped the succo stone on the ground behind the Earthblood elves. He covered it up with a kick of dirt and strode right past the group, walking toward the end of the field.

His job was done. Now all he could do was wait.

And watch.

**< |>**

Callum was having a hard time breathing.

_ She won’t live past sunset. She won’t live past sunset! She… _

The words kept spinning through his head, banging on the inside of his skull with hammers of panic. What were they planning on doing to to Rayla? That was the only one Alan could have been talking about, right? Callum couldn’t turn around and ask the assassin, for he was sure that Alan had actually passed out. Not that Callum would be able to get any words out anyway, for his heart was beating so hard that he was sure it might have been denting the inside of his ribcage. Each breath felt like a balloon was inflating in his chest, pressing on the inside of his lungs and collapsing violently with each exhale. He could do nothing but stare at Sylva Field in the distance for an indeterminate amount of time, his thoughts going around in circles.

Not her. Anyone― _ anyone! _ ―but her. Not Rayla. She meant too much to him. He couldn't lose her, and especially not like this.

He was only broken out of his repetitive cycle of thoughts when he heard the front door of the dormitory open up. Callum spun on instinct, both hands lifted to cast a spell, nevermind how badly his fingers were shaking.

Ezran jumped about two feet in the air, nearly dropping Bait in the process. Callum blinked, lowering his hands to his side, before immediately tangling them anxiously together.

“Ezran!” he exclaimed, looking around, his panic heightening. “ _ What are you doing out here? _ Someone could see you!”

Ezran looked to his right and grimaced as he saw Alan’s bloodied and broken figure. Callum, in a sudden burst of mental clarity, crossed over and turned his brother away from the sight.

“I-I heard fighting!” Ezran said, his voice shaky. “I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I checked all over and couldn’t find you, so I…”

Callum cursed under his breath. In truth, it was no calamity that Ezran had left the dorm room, for the assassins most likely had already known that he had been there. The problem was bigger than that: if the assassins knew about Ezran, then Aaravos did too, since he was the one who had sent them, and that meant that Ezran was not safe in the dorm anymore.

He ran his hands through his sweaty head and tried his best to form a coherent thought. His mind kept bouncing back and forth between Ezran’s safety and Rayla’s, and it was hard to make a decision with all of the worry turning his mind to mush.

“Callum, are you okay?” Ezran asked, when Callum failed to say anything.

Callum blinked and looked down at his brother. He could see the worry engraving lines in Ezran’s face, something that he was far too young for. In his hands, Bait was glowing a very luminescent purple.

Callum got on his knees and wrapped his arms around Ezran in a tight hug, consequently sandwiching Bait between them. Words could not describe how relieved Callum was that his brother was okay and unharmed, but they were far from out of the woods yet.

“I’m fine,” Callum said, squeezing Ezran tighter. “I took care of things. Just…don’t go up on the roof any time soon.” The image of the frozen Zeno flashed through his mind with a shudder.

Ezran pulled back with a heavy frown. “You’re not fine, Callum. Something’s wrong.” He said it in such an austere tone, far too mature for his age. And in Ezran’s blue eyes, Callum could see the anxiety dwelling there at his behavior.

Callum looked away, but kept his hands protectively on Ezran’s shoulders. “The…the people who came after me, they…said something about Rayla. I think she could be in danger.”

Ezran’s eyes softened. Callum was suddenly and painfully reminded just how much his younger brother had been forced to grow up in such a relatively short amount of time.

“Then you should go to her,” Ezran said, in a perfectly calm voice.

Callum blinked. “I…I can’t. I have to get you somewhere safe first.”

“Bait and I can go to the kitchens. You said everyone is going to be at this tournament, right? There won’t be anyone there. Plus, kitchens have plenty of cabinets and cupboards for us to hide in, right Bait?”

Bait grunted in response and turned a lighter shade of purple for a moment. He seemed to nod at Callum for a moment, which under normal circumstances he might have found odd. He was too worried about Rayla to think much about it.

“I…” Callum’s eyes flicked to Sylva Field behind Ezran. Surely the tournament would be close to finished soon, which meant that whatever was planned for Rayla could very well be happening while they spoke. Still, Callum couldn’t let Ezran navigate the campus by himself, especially when Ezran wasn’t even wearing a cloak or anything of the sort that could serve as a disguise.

Callum straightened his shoulders. “I’m going to walk you to the kitchens and make sure you’re safe first.”

Ezran immediately frowned. “Callum, Rayla―”

“Can handle herself for ten more minutes,” Callum interrupted with a confidence that he did not feel. Callum would never forgive himself if something were to happen to his brother while he was off playing Rayla’s knight in shining armor. It was true; she was very capable and could handle a great multitude of challenges. She might not even need his help. But at the same time, he knew he couldn’t just abandon her to her fate. He cared too much about her for that.

Ezran sighed. “Fine.”

As Callum straightened and put his hand on Ezran’s back to lead him to the kitchens, he couldn’t help one last lingering glance toward the practice field.

_ I’m coming, Rayla. _

**< |>**

Rayla was  _ beyond _ ready for the final match of the tournament. She hadn’t truly expected to make it to finals, but she had anyway. And, apparently, she would be facing yet  _ another  _ human. Despite all of that, however, she found it hard to care. With each passing hour of the day, she had only grown more and more worried about the boys hidden in the dorm just under a mile away. What if someone had discovered them while she wasn’t there to protect them? What if Callum had done something stupid when she wasn’t there to stop him? What if  _ something had happened? _

It was these anxieties that had her bouncing on her feet as she waited for the referee to finish reciting the rules of the match to her. She couldn’t care less about the actual match (though she would still try her best to win, of course), and she wanted nothing more than to run back to the dormitory and hug both of her boys. If she could finish this round quickly and receive whatever stupid award they had lined up, she just might be able to do that before it got dark.

Still, she was not expecting this round to be as easy as the others. Despite the anxiety roiling in her veins, she found her eyes scanning the new environment that the Earthblood elves had set up for her. The new terrain that had been set up for the final match was far more complicated than the others and took up nearly the entire field. The ditch from her last round had been widened and lengthened so that it stretched from one part of the field to the other and divided the square in half. At one corner of the field―thankfully far away from where Rayla was standing―there was a small pond, one that she couldn’t judge the depth from just by looking at it. She planned on staying as far away from it as possible. On the opposite side of the pond, a semi-tall toward with a spiral staircase made out of red clay stood. The whole arena square had once again been coated with white sand and large rocks to make footing more difficult.

Rayla tightened her grip on her falcata swords. If nothing else, the terrain of this last round would make things more difficult. She’d have to be careful, especially with that ditch. One tumble inside, and she’d be a sitting duck for her opponent to strike.

And if she was being completely honest, she hadn’t even paid that much attention to who she’d been fighting. She could see him across the field; he was a tall human, with blond hair and a confident smile. However, unlike her last adversary, she didn’t get the sense that this “Soren” disliked her. In fact, he seemed more excited about the match than she was, twirling his longsword around as the referee droned on and on.

Rayla couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. She wasn’t sure why, but when she looked over to the dormitory that housed Callum and Ezran, her gut dropped in worry. She wanted nothing more than to check on them―which was most likely completely superfluous, considering that no alarm bells had been raised yet.

She was so busy worrying about her boys that she almost didn’t notice when the referee blew his whistle and the final match began. She cursed herself as she sprinted forward; she usually attempted to go into these sorts of things with some kind of strategy, but she’d been so paranoid about Callum and Ezran’s discovery that she’d let herself get distracted. Runaan would be disappointed in her.

She was surprised to find that Soren did not rush forward to meet her. Instead, he stood in place, twirling his longsword in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating manner. When she jumped over a hill of sand and came to a rest about a yard or two away from him, he was still doing it, grunting enthusiastically. It would have been comical if she hadn’t been so annoyed.

She straightened, her swords held out in front of her in a ready position as he continued to twirl his sword around.

“Are…we gonna fight, or is this a talent show?” Rayla couldn’t resist asking.

Soren physically drooped. His sword came to a rest at a ready position in front of his chest.

Rayla lunged forward, aiming an overhead blow from the left at his chest. He immediately blocked, and she used his temporary surprise at her sudden movement to slash at him again, this time from the right. He took two steps backward, but when his foot hit the edge of the square, he seemed to realize that he had cornered himself. When Rayla swung again, Soren dove to the right and rolled away.

She turned to face him, and just barely managed to jump over the sword he swung at her knees as he got back to his feet. His back was now to the pond, but Rayla was able to make a snap observation as she saw the way his feet were positioned―clearly, if she tried to charge at him again, he planned to jump out of the way and let her tumble into the water. That, quite simply, was not an option. So instead, Rayla hopped to the side, away from the edge of the arena and closer to the more open area of sand and rocks in front of the ditch.

Soren followed her, swinging his sword at her from the left, followed immediately by an overhand blow straight over his head. Rayla stepped back to parry the first blow, then caught his sword between hers in an X. Right when she was about to strike back, Soren lashed out with his foot and kicked her backwards, sending her stumbling close to the ditch. She rolled to the right to give herself room to maneuver, and the fight began again.

It was…refreshing to fight against someone who seemed to actually have a clue what they were doing, regardless of the human fighting style. As it was when two people of moderate skill fought one another, Rayla could tell that she and Soren were feeling each other out with each strike, trying to determine the extent of the other’s skill while simultaneously holding back some of their own. It was almost like a game of chess, if she had understood what Callum had told her about that human board game.

Rayla thought she had the upper hand when, as they fought, they trailed near a particularly tall rock, reaching up almost to her hip. She sidestepped behind it as Soren attempted to slice her from the left. Her hope was that putting the rock between them would allow her to get a barrier in his way. One thing that Soren had for him was his height and his range, something that put Rayla at a bit of a disadvantage, even if she was faster. It worked, too; Soren swung too hard, and his sword slammed right into the rock―where it immediately became stuck fast.

That was unexpected. Clearly, the Earthblood elves had opted for using a softer sort of rock just in case a fencer were to fall on it, as was their gentle nature. It probably hadn’t come up in any other matches, so the college had allowed the softer rock type. Now, it would work in Rayla’s favor.

She backed up a little as Soren tugged his sword in an attempt to get it unstuck, his face full of panic and frustration. She planted her foot against the side of another large nearby boulder and  _ jumped _ , twisting in the air so that she was directly above Soren, her swords raised over her head to strike the blow that would deem her the winner of the match.

But Soren lifted his foot and rammed it into her ribs, sending her flying in the opposite direction. She landed hard on her back, world spinning, chest aching. She managed to come to her senses right in the nick of time, and she rolled out of the way right as Soren’s sword came down and slammed into the sand where she had just been.

She scrambled to her feet, grip tight on her swords, backing up to give herself some distance as she and Soren circled each other. She’d overcommitted herself and made a mistake; it wouldn’t happen again.

Thankfully, no gong had sounded to signify that a point had been scored. The judges were extra picky in the final round, but it would be rare for a point to be scored for an injury that didn’t come by sword. The tournament was one for the sword, not for the fist―or in this case, the foot. He’d kicked her twice, now. She’d have to be careful and keep that in mind. Distance could be key in this case.

An idea sparked in her mind. Before Soren could make a move, she charged forward, throwing her right sword as hard as she could at him. His eyes went wide and he blocked the flying weapon―which was exactly what she expected―and as her sword went flying away, she closed in on him. He noticed a bit faster than she would have liked, and swung his sword at her in a wide arc.

Rayla dropped to her knees mid run, and let her momentum carry her under his sword and past his legs―which she made sure to slash at with her one remaining sword as she passed.

A loud gong sounded as she passed the human fencer and jumped up to her feet, signaling that she had scored the first point of the match. She heard Soren turn, expecting her to go after his exposed back, but she kept running. Her other sword had flown away and landed on the other side of the ditch, and she would be at a terrible disadvantage if she continued to fight with only one sword when she was specially trained to use two.

She felt a rush of wind behind her as Soren sliced at her back right as she reached the edge of the deep ditch, but she was already in the air, flipping over the ditch―despite an odd flash of pain that shouldn’t have been present in her ribcage―and landing smoothly on the other side. When she scooped up her other sword, she became acutely aware of the crowd cheering from the elven side.

Soren stared at her for a moment, and as she took a moment to catch her breath, she could see the grudging respect in his eyes. At least this human hadn’t muttered any slurs to her before or during the match like her first two opponents; he seemed to have a sense of honor, which she found that she also respected.

The human side of the crowd began to cheer as well as Soren backed up a few steps, then took a running jump over the ditch and landed in a roll. When he straightened, his sword was in a disciplined ready position. She could tell that he was taking a moment to assess their new surroundings, and took a breath and did the same.

The only real  _ obstacle _ of any sort on this side of the ditch, other than the obvious small sand dunes and rocks, was the spiral staircase made out of red clay. Again, she figured that it made sense for the Earthblood elves to make it out of a softer material, for it would certainly make the setting up of the new terrain easier. She noted its location and turned her attention back to her opponent.

It was Soren who rushed forward first, and Rayla braced her feet against a large rock nearby as he closed in. 

He slashed low, aiming for her stomach, but she blocked with her right sword even as she thrusted toward his head with her left sword. He sidestepped it with a confident smirk―one that quickly disappeared as she used the flat of her blade to hit him upside the head. Aggravated now, Soren used his superior mass and height to ram his shoulder into her chest, and as she stumbled backwards, he sliced his sword across her right sword arm.

And it  _ hurt. _ Badly. Rayla was so shocked by the sudden wave of pain that she allowed herself to scramble backwards as a gong rang in the distance. Soren pressed the advantage, swinging another one of his overhead blows for her head. Once more, she blocked the strike by putting her blades in an X shape, but almost immediately dived to the side, toward the large spiral staircase, as her right arm screamed in pain and wimped out on her. If she hadn’t moved when she did, his sword would have slammed into the center of her forehead.

Rayla used Soren’s distraction at his sudden thrown-off balance to take several steps backward, until her feet were on the first step of the staircase. Another split second decision, and she was dashing up the pillar, nursing her right arm with clenched teeth.

When she reached the top, Soren was still at the bottom, glaring up at her. She could feel his frustration, for it mirrored her own.

“Is there anyone else here who wants to fight?” he declared, his voice loud across the field. “This elf is a coward!”

Rayla ignored him even as a wild series of boos and cheers broke out from the crowd. While her opponent was preoccupied with the reactions of the humans and elves, she took a moment to examine her arm, and her eyes went wide when the hand that was cradling it came away red.

That shouldn’t have been possible. There was a long, bleeding cut in her arm, one that seemed to go fairly deep. She tried to flex her fingers, but that intense pain came back again and she grimaced. Where had her magical shield gone? Surely someone had noticed…?

Rayla straightened, wiping the blood on her hand off on her pants, looking for Conlis and the other Earthblood elves who were supposed to be powering the spell that was keeping her safe. She could just barely make out their figures at the end of the field. Their postures were slouched, and all of them seemed almost…sick. But none of the referees or administrators had noticed. They were all too far away to notice the blood on Rayla’s arm. Either that, or they thought it was leftover red clay from her mad scramble up the tower.

Rayla could see Soren pacing around the staircase, narrowing his eyes at her as he tried to think. Luckily, he didn’t seem to be the brightest, so Rayla took another moment to wipe the sweat out of her eyes and to try and figure out what she could do. She could try to end the match, but that usually never worked anyway; whenever a fencer tried to end a match, the referees usually didn’t listen. Trying to end the match early was a sign of weakness and disrespect for the sport. She’d have to make it to the side of the arena to convince them, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to with Soren on her tail.

Rayla frowned as she spotted the tear in Soren’s pant leg from where she had scored her point. He seemed to be fine, without any limp or blood on him. His shield was clearly operational. So why was hers the one that was acting up?

She could bide her time, and try to wait for the referees to call a break. The match was still tied, and when two opponents were evenly matched, often referees would call a short break for the competitors to rest for a few minutes. She’d be safe to go convince them that something was wrong if she could just make it to that halfway point. Surely it would be sometime soon? She would just have to bide her time.

It was a good thing she’d made it to the top of the tower. It was built on a clockwise spiral, which meant that any right-handed fighter would be fairly encumbered by the wall on their way up. It was unlikely that Soren would want to take that risk, which meant that she was safe. Temporarily.

Sweat trickled down her back and blood dripped onto the top of the tower. Rayla grit her teeth against the ache that came with each one of her juddered heartbeats. The cut was deep, and as much as she hated to admit it, the pain got to her more because she was out of practice with accepting injuries. Runaan had never harmed her on purpose, but it would happen sometimes when they sparred. He’d taught her how to bandage her own wounds, and had told her that she would grow used to the pain over time.

She held her arm next to her as best she could as Soren continued to circle below her. She could sense his building frustration; clearly the human fencer could not understand why she was suddenly so reluctant to fight him. He hadn’t noticed the extent of the wound he had inflicted on her, or the small glistening of blood on his sword, so focused was he on her.

“Come on, elf!” Soren called. “We don’t have all day! What are you, scared?”

Rayla blistered at the implication, even if deep down it was somewhat true. But she was so tired and worried that she allowed the words to just slip out.

“Yeah?” she called down to him. “Well, if you were any smarter, I could teach you to play fetch. Scared of a little tower?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Soren’s eyes widened for a moment and then immediately narrowed with anger, and even from far away she could see his grip on his sword tighten. She had half a moment to think that perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut before she saw him charge forward―just not at the stairs. With a grunt full of rage, Soren swung his sword hard at the central pillar that held up the tower Rayla was standing on.

Immediately, the whole structure began to shake. She spread her feet out instinctively to maintain her balance, but when Soren swung again, damaging the soft material that held up the tower, hairline fractures began to spread, reaching as far up as her feet. He was trying to collapse the tower!

_ That time out had better come soon _ , she found a semi-coherent part of her brain thinking.

Rayla didn’t have a choice. She ran to the edge and  _ jumped _ right as the giant pillar began to crumble, and managed to land in a clumsy roll before the tower collapsed and everything was cloaked in red clay dust. She scrambled away as best she could, but a clump of rock still managed to hit her in the back, and another one on her cheek. The bruising ache helped her to focus, and she forced herself into a ready position even as her foot nearly slipped into the ditch.

She held her swords out before her, tasting the dust on her tongue as she took deep breaths. She couldn’t see a thing through the cloud of red around her, and she couldn’t hear very well either, both because of the roar of the nearby crowd and the pounding of her heart. This was too dangerous for someone who was without a magical shield.

She did her best to edge away from the ditch, but she didn’t want to go too far in case she accidentally walked right into her opponent. He was undoubtedly having as hard a time seeing as she was, so it would be best to wait it out and―

A figure emerged from the cloud of dust, and Rayla barely had enough time to spin and attempt to raise her swords before a shoulder rammed into her stomach and she went flying backwards―where she landed directly in the ditch.

Her whole body was aching now. She didn’t think she had hit her head, but she didn’t need to; the pain flowing through her was enough to muddle her mind plenty. She looked up right as the dust cloud above her began to dissipate. Soren stood above her, halfway into the ditch, his sword raised above her chest, ready to strike the killing blow that would do far more than win him the match. Weakly, Rayla raised her swords in a feeble attempt to save herself―thoughts of Runaan and Ezran and Callum, wonderful Callum―flashed through her mind, and Soren began to carry the sword downward, and then―

_ BONGGGGGG. _

A gigantic gong rang throughout the field, startling Soren so much that he tripped and fell next to Rayla in the ditch before his sword could finish its deadly journey. As the dust finally cleared above them, she could just barely make out the referees holding up a giant sign with an hourglass painted on it, signifying that the match would be paused for a short break. It was a good thing that dust cloud had been present, otherwise they wouldn’t have paused the match right before it was over.

Rayla had never loved dust more.

**< |>**

Callum was a wreck when he finally arrived at Sylva Field.

He’d dropped Ezran off at the kitchen, made sure no one else was in the building (and washed a bit of the blood off of him, at Ezran’s insistence), and then had run as fast as he could for the training field, his legs going almost as fast as his thoughts.

He was fully aware that he was taking a very big risk by showing his face around the other humans. He knew there was a chance someone could recognize him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Rayla was in danger. He couldn’t just  _ leave  _ her, not when there was something that he could do to help her. The thought of living in a world without her made his whole being  _ ache _ in a way that he couldn’t fully explain. He couldn’t lose her. He  _ wouldn’t _ lose her. Not if he had anything to say about it.

When he saw all the magic around the field, he paused for just a moment. On any other day, he would have gaped at it all for hours. As it was, he hardly gave the magical aura of the field a first glance, much less a second one. Too much was at stake.

But as he took a second step, he realized that he had no idea where he could find Rayla. The area around the field was huge and filled with both elves and humans, not to mention all the tents she could be hidden in. He didn’t have time to search them all! For all he knew, there was a second group of assassins closing in on her as he hesitated.

Callum ran his hands through his hair, barely resisting the urge to rip it all out. How was he supposed to help her if he  _ didn’t even know where she was? _

After a moment of panic, he decided that he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, so he began to run again, not caring who he bumped into or whether they were elf or human. Neither did he care about the fact that he was carrying one of Rayla’s swords in either hands, just in case. It was unlikely that anyone would recognize them as weapons, and if they did, they would think that he was supposed to have them. It was a  _ fencing  _ tournament, after all. 

He was cursed at several times, and one person even slapped him on the ear as he passed, but Callum hardly noticed any of it. Under normal circumstances, he would have been more careful, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of a bleak world without Rayla in it. Without her witty jokes, her brilliant compassion, her... _ Rayla- _ ness.

Eventually, once he got about halfway through the crowd gathered around the field without seeing so much as a hint of Rayla, Callum rammed right into someone’s back. He stumbled backwards and fully intended on continuing right past them, but the person grabbed his shoulders excitedly instead.

“Callum!” Kale exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. “What’re you doing here? Rayla told us that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to make it!”

Callum’s heart skipped a beat. He slapped Kale’s hands down from his shoulders, not caring if it came across as rude, and spoke to him, his voice breathy from all the running he’d been doing. 

“Kale!” Callum near-yelled at him. “Where’s Rayla? I  _ need  _ to find her!”

Kale’s reaction would have been humorous if the circumstances hadn’t been so dire. He went as pale as a sheet of paper, as if he had seen a ghost, and his mouth flapped open as he stared at Callum.

_ Right, _ Callum remembered.  _ I’m supposed to be mute. _

“Callum?” Kale managed to eek out, blinking and looking as if Callum had grown a second head. “Wha―your  _ voice _ ―I thought―”

“Kale,” Callum said, shaking the elf’s shoulders desperately. “I promise I’ll explain everything later, just tell me,  _ WHERE IS RAYLA?!” _

Mutely, Kale pointed toward a nearby tent, one with a medical caduceus stitched on it in silver thread. Callum shoved past him, gripping the lumps of metal in his hands tightly lest he suddenly collapse. She  _ had  _ to be okay, he didn’t know what he would  _ do  _ if she wasn’t―

He hardly even realized he was at the mouth of the tent until he was pushing the flap aside and stepping into the dimly lit interior. He was panting, partly from the exertion of all his spellwork and partially from the terrible fear that something terrible had already happened to her.

But Rayla was just sitting on a chair next to a table, bandaging a cut on her arm calmly. She also had a small bruise on her cheek along with a few scrapes, but she didn’t seem to be in much pain. Callum’s scarf was wrapped around her wrist. She looked up when Callum entered, alarmed, but she relaxed when she saw it was just him.

Then her eyebrows raised in alarm again. “ _ Callum? _ What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be back at the dorm! What if the humans―”

Callum cut her off by sweeping across the tent and stooping over to wrap her in a tight hug, because  _ thank the sources, she was okay. _

“Rayla,” he breathed, burying his face in her shoulder. “You’re okay.”

He could practically  _ hear _ her brow furrowing as she returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm after a moment of hesitation. “Wha…? Callum, is everything all right? You’re starting to worry me.”

As much as he wanted to reassure her, the words of the mercenary kept replaying over and over again in his head.  _ “She won’t live past sunset.” _

He pulled back and sat in the chair next to hers, setting her swords on the table. He laid a hand over his scarf, still tied around her wrist. “I…I was attacked at the dorm.”

Callum watched her eyes widen in alarm, and she sat up straighter in her chair as she looked him over. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Her eyes landed on the cut that went into his hairline, and her face darkened. “Who did that to you?”

He squeezed her wrist comfortingly, both for his sake and hers. He found it comforting to have physical contact with her, to remind himself that she was still real. “I’m fine. I took care of those guys.”

He thought her eyes would bug out of her head as she gripped his hand worriedly in return. “ _ There was more than one?” _

“Well, yeah, but I took care of it. Them, I mean.”

Rayla blinked at him. Then she was the one yanking him forward and enveloping him in another hug, burying her face in his neck. Callum immediately returned it, breathing in her comforting scent of moonberries and pine. He’d been so  _ worried _ about her just a few minutes before that being able to hold her like this seemed to be almost unreal.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. A flash of electricity, almost like a miniature  _ fulminis _ spell, went down his spine.

He couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss against the side of her head, right above her ear. “I’m glad you’re okay, too. I…don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He was instantly glad that she couldn’t see his face, for it immediately went bright red. He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, no matter how true it was!

But he could feel the muscles in Rayla’s face shift as she frowned, and she pulled back after a moment, though she kept her hands on his shoulders. “What do you mean?”

Callum frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but the cut on his forehead suddenly twinged and he couldn’t help but wince.

Rayla’s eyes immediately softened, and she tugged him a little closer to inspect the wound atop his head.

“That looks sort of deep,” she said, her brows furrowing together. She lifted a hand and gently moved some of his hair out of the way, her fingers brushing over his forehead. His breath hitched in his throat. “Here. Let me help. You can tell me what happened while I see if I can fix that up.”

Callum let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when she released her hold on his shoulders and turned to the medical supplies. Wordlessly, he watched her pull out a small bandage and some cotton balls, temporarily forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. He wasn’t exactly sure  _ why, _ but his heart swelled with affection as he stared at her. She was  _ okay _ ; a little banged up, but otherwise all right.

“What happened to you?” Callum found himself asking as she turned back to him. “I thought there were rules against injuries.” He nodded at the long cut on her arm.

Rayla’s frown returned. “Something went wrong with the spell that the Earthblood elves were using. I’m not really sure what. I told the referees, and they said they’re looking into it.”

His panic returned full force. He couldn’t help but lurch forward and grab her free hand, searching her eyes desperately. Maybe she had some other injuries that he just hadn’t seen yet? Maybe she was just playing off her pain for his sake?

“You’re okay, though, right?” he asked, his words spilling out of his mouth. “You’re not―”

“Callum,” Rayla said with a small smile that made the room spin. She squeezed his hand with her own before taking it and cupping his face gently. She seemed to know exactly what to do to calm him down, for he could immediately feel his mind anchor itself to the moment as his breathing slowed and he leaned into her touch. “I’m fine. Just a few scratches, is all.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as her hands moved up to the wound on his head. After being so worried about her, even just sitting next to her felt like some kind of euphoric drug.

“I wish Gilavor were here so that he could stitch us up with that magic of his,” she muttered to herself, narrowing her eyes at his cut. “The nurse said she would back back, but she hasn’t…” She sighed and rubbed her face for a moment before lifting her voice back to a normal level.

“Now,” Rayla said, cocking an eyebrow at him as she started to clean up his cut, “you were going to tell me about what exactly happened while I was gone?”

Callum winced, and not because of the stinging in his forehead. “Well, uh, you see…”

He did his best to detail the whole story to her, trying his best not to wither too much when she heard about how he’d left the dorm room for jelly tarts. She did smile proudly when he told her about the way she’d sweeped out Alan’s leg, but for the most part her face was fixed in a frown as she listened and tended to his wound. She clearly had a lot of experience with bandaging up scrapes and cuts (not that that was really surprising), for her fingers moved gently yet with purpose as he spoke. By the time he finished his tale, she’d just finished fixing the adhesive bandage to his forehead.

“Ugh,” she growled, her ears perked up and red, a sure sign that she was angry. “I should find those no good assassins and teach them a lesson. Nobody touches my boys.”

Callum grinned at her, heart fluttering. “Your boys, huh?”

She broke eye contact, flushing just slightly. He thought it was adorable. “W-well, uh…” She cleared her throat. “What was it that those jerks said about me?”

He couldn’t help the shudder that went down his back. “He…he said ‘she won’t live past sunset.’”

Rayla’s face darkened for a moment, but when she saw his expression it immediately softened. She put the medical supplies on the nearby table and took both his hands, squeezing them gently. “I’m sorry you were so worried. But see? I’m fine!”

Callum felt his brows knit together. “But we still don’t know who or what is supposed to k-kill you!” That terrible worry in the pit of his stomach returned once more, and he stared hard at Rayla, trying to memorize her face. “They could still be…”

“Cal,” Rayla said, her ears drooping as she fixed him with a look that could only be described as a  _ gaze. _ He felt whatever words he’d planned to say next evaporate as he took in the affection and gratefulness, so candid in her eyes. She took his hands and pressed them together in front of her face, pressing a soft kiss across both his knuckles. His heart began to beat on a bass drum in his chest, and it was pounding so hard that he almost missed what she said next.

“I appreciate you worrying about me,” Rayla said, lowering his hands but still holding onto them. “Really. But I think everything will be fine. The worst is over, now. You can relax.”

Callum very nearly did just that. It was just so easy, with the way she was holding onto his hands, rubbing her thumbs over his knuckles, and with the way she was still  _ gazing _ at him, like he was a fascinating piece of artwork.

But something about it didn’t feel right. His gut―full of butterflies for more than one reason―was screaming at him that something was still wrong. It all felt too easy, somehow. Almost like Aaravos wanted them to let their guard down, to make it easier for a second wave of attacks. For all he knew, there was a second team of assassins already on their way. He didn’t want to take any more chances.

“Ray, please,” Callum eventually said. “I really don’t think we should take any risks. I know there’s a lot riding on the match, but we should get out of―”

She cut him off with a small laugh. “You really think I’m that worried about the match?” She shook her head with a fond smile that quickly turned more melancholy. “Cal, I’m worried about you and Ez. I have been all day. I need you both to be safe, and you being here is already dangerous enough. You’re lucky no one important saw you. If we leave now, everyone will be looking for us, and it’ll put you even more at risk.” She hesitated for a moment, then looked away. “I...I need you. B-both of you, I-I mean.”

There was that word again.  _ Need. _ It seemed to have a special weight when she said it, a weight that beat in his chest with fervent intensity, like a second heart. Rayla needed him safe. Rayla  _ needed _ him.

But what did Callum  _ need? _ He needed food and shelter, but neither of those things made his head as fuzzy as the idea of Rayla needing him did. Need, need, need. Callum needed…

He immediately knew that answer as he saw that same intensity in those eyes that he loved so much, and he couldn’t stop the words that spilled out of his mouth.

“Ray,” Callum breathed, leaning his forehead against hers. “ _ Please _ come with me. I…I need you too.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it was true. Rayla completed him in a way that no one else ever had; he couldn’t imagine life without her, and he had only known her for about a month and a half! It almost felt ridiculous to think, but he needed her like he needed air. He needed her like Harrow had needed Sarai. Callum’s heart did a little skip-jump in his chest at that thought, for it opened up an entirely new way of thinking for him.

He…he loved her.

He loved  _ her. _

He  _ loved _ her.

He loved her…because she was kind, and strong, and wouldn’t hesitate to kick down a door if there was even a chance that someone needed help on the other side. She was empathetic and determined; she was kind, and good, and daring…she was compassionate and brave, and she gave him strength when he needed it most.

He loved her, in short, because she was  _ Rayla. _

“Callum, I…” Rayla whispered, but anything else she had to say didn’t seem to make it out of her throat. Instead, her violet gaze slid down his face and landed on his mouth as their noses bumped together.

Callum found his eyes mirroring the action, landing on her lips as well. He knew he should have been focusing on the potential disaster that was upon them, but…well, he couldn’t help but wonder how her lips would feel against his own. He couldn’t help but lean forward just a tiny bit, drawn in by her gravity, the words  _ because she’s Rayla _ ringing in his head and thumping in his heart. He felt her shaky exhale against his mouth as their faces inched closer, and his eyelids fluttered closed, and…

Then a voice rang through the tent.  _ “Callum?” _

Callum was so startled that he fell out of his chair, landing with a thud on the dirt in front of the chairs, face burning so hot he thought he must have connected to the sun primal. He coughed, stunned, as he looked up to see an upside down figure standing at the mouth of the tent.

…a figure wearing a Katolis set of leather armor.

_ “Soren?” _

**< |>**

Soren blinked down at…well, it had to be Callum, didn’t it? He…didn’t look like himself.

Soren had to blink and rub his eyes once or twice to make sure he was seeing things clearly. The face was clearly Callum’s. He would recognize it anywhere. But he had…horns? And face markings?

“Callum?” Soren repeated. He blinked again. And one more time. “Oh no, what did the elves do to you!”

Callum scrambled to his feet, blinking dust out of his eyes. His face was really red, like he had just run a very far distance, which couldn’t be right, since Callum was not athletic at  _ all. _

“What?” Callum’s voice came. His voice was shaky. “Uh…no! No the elves haven’t done anything to me? What are you  _ doing  _ here?”

“Yeah,” the elf behind him said, standing and stepping protectively behind Callum. She had two lumps of metal in her hands that Soren suspected were some sort of weapons. “What  _ are _ you doing here?”

Soren blinked again. “Hey, you’re that elf I was fighting!”

“Yeah,” she said, stepping up next to Callum. “I was. I’m also the elf you  _ actually _ injured when we were fighting.”

“What? No, that can’t be right. My dad told me―”

Then his eyes fell on the long bandage covering the elf’s arm. And the bruise on her face. Neither of which should have been possible, considering that the shield had been active the whole time…that’s what his dad had said…

Callum put a hand on her shoulder. “This is Rayla. I think you two know each other.”

Soren rubbed his forehead. “Wait wait wait… _ wait. _ I…I don’t understand. Callum, what are you  _ doing  _ here? And why do you  _ look _ like that?”

Callum smiled in that awkward way of his and laughed nervously. “Well, uh, you see―”

“Hey!” Soren exclaimed, scowling. “Wait! You attacked my dad!”

“And you attacked Rayla! And Rayla attacked me at one point!” Callum rubbed the back of his neck. “But I didn’t do any of those things they said I did! I swear! I didn’t…” He paused, and his face fell. “I didn’t kill Harrow.”

Soren felt a flash of sympathy for Callum. After all, they had grown up together, and Harrow had always been incredibly kind to Soren, especially when he didn’t have to be. He’d always thought it was strange, the story that everyone in Katolis had been fed, for Callum had hardly been able to hold a sword during practice, much less kill someone. Especially his own step-father.

“Then who did?” Soren asked. “And why did you run away?”

“Uh, I ran away because  _ Viren _ told everyone that I did something I  _ didn’t, _ and―” Callum cut himself off suddenly. On his shoulder, Rayla’s hand gave him a little squeeze. “Well, uh…your dad…w-was the one…who…”

Soren staggered away. He may not have been the smartest, but he was able to pick up on the implications of Callum’s voice with ease.

“That can’t be right,” he said, looking at the side of the tent. “You…you have to be wrong.”

“I was…I was  _ there _ , Soren,” Callum’s voice told him. It was wavering wildly, and cracked once or twice. “I…I really am sorry. I’m sorry that you had to find out this way.”

Soren ran a hand through his hair. “You…you’re lying.” But that couldn’t be right, because Callum had always been a terrible liar.

Footsteps after a moment, ones that stopped right behind Soren. A hand rested on his shoulder. “Soren, I’m sorry. But whether or not you believe me, you have to admit that something weird is going on at this tournament. Rayla was injured even though she had a magic shield on. Just let us go without saying anything to anyone.”

Soren sighed, then straightened. When he turned around, he tried his best to keep his face stoic. “What about the match? I can’t just fight no one. Can’t…uh…”

“Rayla,” the elf supplied, her arms crossed. “My  _ name  _ is Rayla.”

“Right,” Soren said. “Can’t Rayla just do the match and then leave? I’m sure they’ve probably fixed the problem by now.”

Callum opened his mouth to respond, then turned around and looked at Rayla. Her mouth was twisted into a frown, and she seemed to be thinking hard. Soren had the same face whenever he was trying hard to understand something.

“No,” Rayla said after a moment, looking back up at them. “No, I can’t do the match.” She seemed to lock eyes with Callum, which Soren thought a bit odd. “We don’t actually know what’s going on. There could still be some danger.”

Callum grinned, which Soren thought was a weird response to what she’d said. But they both turned to him, and he realized that he was the one who was supposed to make a decision.

Before the matches had started, his dad had assured him that the shield would be working under any circumstance. And then Rayla had gotten injured anyway. It was probably a coincidence. Probably. But after everything that had happened back home…was it really? His head hurt just thinking about it. Claudia would know what to do. Soren didn’t.

But he  _ did  _ know that he couldn’t let the match continue if there was a chance that one of them could actually get injured. He had to do something.

“Yeah,” Soren told them, his mind made up for once in his life. “Go. I’ll tell them that something is wrong with the magic or something.”

“Thank you,” Callum said, clasping Soren’s shoulder. Behind him, Rayla gave him a thankful nod as well. Then she grabbed Callum’s arm, and together they swept out of the tent.

Soren sighed, straightening his leather armor and rolling his shoulders back.

Time to disappoint his father.

**< |>**

“Honestly, Callum, it’s a miracle you weren’t caught when you came to find me,” Rayla said, frowning over at her dumb human as she dragged him behind her. It would be easiest to walk to the edge of the forest, where no one else was, and sneak their way around the whole pavilion from there.

“No kidding,” she heard him mutter. “It’s a good thing the clouds are covering up the sky right now, or I’d really be in trouble.”

Rayla stopped walking, then pulled Callum under the shade of a tree. He looked alarmed, but she was far too irritated to spend time on that.

_ “You’re telling me that you could be exposed as a human at any moment?” _ she hissed at him, seething. “And you came here  _ anyway? _ Callum, that’s so…so…”

“Stupid, I know,” Callum sighed, running a hand through his hair. But when he looked back at her, there was a determined glint in his eyes. “But they said you were in danger, Ray. I couldn’t  _ not _ try and warn you.”

She blinked twice. Oh, why did he have to make it so hard to be mad at him? Still, she tried her best, crossing her arms and fixing him with a glare. It lasted for about three seconds before she was violently reminded of what had just transpired in the tent… _ before _ Soren had come in.

Her whole body seemed to blush then as she remembered what had been about to happen. She should have been focusing on the numerous dangers that faced them, but she couldn’t help the memory that flashed through her head and the moon moths that fluttered in her stomach as she stepped away from Callum and began to nervously play with her hair.

“U-uh,” Callum stammered, and when she dared to glance up at him, she found that his face was just as red as hers, the blush quickly spreading down his neck and to his ears as well. “W-we should…um, we should g-get going.”

“Yep!” Rayla agreed, taking yet another step backward. She took a deep breath to center herself― _ what would Runaan say if he could see her now? _ ―and turned toward the forest, scanning the treeline to make sure that no one else would be present as they made their escape. “We are…going! Right now!”

She began to walk, and immediately heard Callum follow her. She found it a bit easier to focus now that they were moving, the urgency of the situation returning. She had to get herself and Callum out of there before the sun came out, before a human managed to recognize him, and before whatever danger Aaravos had planned for her could catch up to them.

Callum had been right, she ruminated as they walked as fast as they could without attracting attention. It was all together too dangerous for her to remain and finish the match; both for her and for the two humans. Callum had already been attacked, and who knew what else would happen to them if she allowed herself to get distracted by the match. Callum and Ezran were more important.

At the pace they were setting, and with everyone else preoccupied with getting concessions and arguing about the prowess of the final two fencers, the walk to the edge of the forest didn’t take too long. No one seemed to pay much attention to them, despite the fact that Rayla’s face would be fairly well known at this venue.

Of course,  _ something _ had to go wrong, otherwise Rayla would seriously doubt the sanity of the whole situation.

It started when Callum suddenly grabbed Rayla’s arm and pulled her to a stop. When she turned to look at him, she found that his eyes were full of worry, and fixed on something at the treeline. When she followed his line of sight, she cursed.

There was movement at the edge of the trees. She’d been so focused on making sure no one stopped them that she’d completely forgotten to watch for anyone else at their desired destination. A big mistake.

Viren himself, with his inflated ego and his intricately engraved staff, had just disappeared into the forest, followed closely by none other than Aaravos. Neither of them even so much as looked over their shoulders, though even from far away she could feel the evil flowing off of them in drolls. Whatever they were doing in the forest, it couldn’t be good.

Rayla looked over at Callum, not sure how he would take the suggestion she was about to give him. But it was he who spoke first, a determined glint in his eyes.

“We have to follow them,” he said, his brow furrowed as he stared at the spot where the two evil masterminds had disappeared. “They can’t be doing anything good.”

Rayla gaped at him for a moment, then said, “Are you sure? We won’t have enough time with the clouds and the sun putting you at risk to find a campus security guard to help us.”

Callum shook his head. “They wouldn’t believe us anyway. And we don’t have to confront them, just find evidence of what they’re doing.”

She grinned as an overwhelming sense of pride in her friend rolled over her. Despite his fear, he was willing to go into danger against the man who had murdered his step-father to make sure that no one else would get hurt. “Let’s get going, then.”

He returned her grin and joined her as they began their escape again, faster this time.

They’d made it past the fairgrounds and halfway to the forest (a healthy distance away from the suffocating crowds of Sylva Field) when a voice suddenly called out for them. Callum and Rayla shared a worried look and immediately began to walk faster, but it was too late. Several sets of footsteps were close behind them, and a hand suddenly landed on her shoulder.

Rayla spun, swords suddenly in her hands but not flipped out. In front of her, Cressida jumped back clumsily, and Kale managed to catch her before she fell over. Behind them, Zell and Atlas looked frightened by her reflexes. Next to those two, Gilavor stood, hand on the back of his neck and an awkward smile on his face.

“Sorry,” he said, grimacing. “I tried to stop them once they saw you, but it was too late.”

_ “What are you guys―” _ Callum started to sign, but Kale cut him off with a finger pointed at his face.

“You can talk!” he exclaimed.

Rayla turned and glared at Callum, whose face was the perfect picture of panic. Clearly, the boy had forgotten to tell her something when he’d been recounting his story to her earlier.

“We don’t have time for this,” Rayla said when she looked back at the group of elves in front of her. “We have a  _ big _ problem we have to take care of.”

“Yeah!” Zell said, stepping forward with narrowed eyes. “Like why our supposedly  _ mute _ Skywing elf can  _ actually _ talk! Kale heard it!”

“Look, we’ll explain everything later,” Rayla responded, taking a step backward, a hand on Callum’s arm to drag him with her. “But we  _ really  _ have to go.”

At that moment, the sun came out from behind the clouds.

She had half a moment to curse loudly before the sunlight landed directly on Callum, and the illusion keeping him safe until that moment flickered dangerously, exposing his very  _ human _ features. Exposed, Callum’s eyes went wide, and he took several steps backward as the Moonshadow elves gaped at him.

Rayla stepped in front of him before anyone could say anything. “It’s not what you think!”

As one, the Moonshadow elves began to glower at Callum, and they all took a menacing step forward. Rayla flicked her swords open and gave them a glare in return.  _ No one _ was going to harm Callum. She’d make sure of that. She’d just have to be sure not to hurt them too badly.

“Rayla,” Cressida said, crossing her arms, her voice shaky with anger, “why don’t you both tell us what the  _ hell  _ is going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was fun, right? :)
> 
> Anyways, sorry for the long wait, guys. I had a bit of a block for a while, plus after December everything starts to get really busy for me. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I have to give a big shout out to my betas, skymagemar and Elite_7, who both have some cool stories you should totally check out. Hope you guys enjoyed!


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